Posted by: nastypen | June 5, 2008

I Will Smite Thee With Fabulousness

I had lunch with a gay friend. Let’s call him Veklurva. We were having a nice lunch at Ruby Tuesday at Trinoma. It was an expensive lunch and I almost hurled it like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Veklurva said he wants to get married. To a woman.

I shrieked “HUWAAAAAT?!?!?!?! But you’re gay!!!!”

Veklurva: But I don’t want to be alone!

At this point I want to bitchslap Veklurva for sounding like a stereotypical weak woman who needs a knight in shining armor. But I just stared….no glared at him. Veklurva had a nervous laugh and said “I want to have children!”

I said, “You can have kids without having to marry!!!!”

Veklurva: I don’t want to adopt. I want to sire kids!

I said, “Sire?!! You don’t have to have sex to have children nowadays!”

Veklurva: I am getting married.

I said, “Ewww. Ewwww.”

Veklurva came out years ago. He did so with such aplomb. He wrote an essay about him coming to terms with homosexuality and how this does not deter him with his spirituality. Now, he wants to get married. If he does, I will send photos of him and his bride with a clipping of that essay.

Veklurva: Of course she must know I’m gay.

I am stumped. I just stare at my food thinking of how a woman can kiss a man whose lips have grazed the nether regions of other men.

Veklurva: Don’t you want kids?

I yelled, “Hell no!”

Veklurva: Well I want to have kids. I want to have a legacy.

I just sipped my iced tea.

How on earth can Veklurva stomach such a concept? It’s like those homosexuals who decide to get married and have children “for companionship.” Worse, some homos opt to marry to show the world they’re normal only to have Brokeback Mountain moments at some back alley somewhere. Bitch, please! The thought of me and a woman makes the hair on my arms and legs walk out in fright.

Veklurva: Will you go to my wedding?

I said, “No.” Because I will start screaming like a harpy when I see you holding hands with a woman. but that’s unfair. I realize I am acting like a homophobe when confronted with the “abhorrent” homosexual. I thought on te way home if Veklurva wants to get married to a woman, that’s his business. I am amazed that he wants to tell the woman everything. Good for her. Good for Veklurva.

I thought I sounded like one of those extremist people who will call upon the wrath of God upon abhorrent sinners like me. Smite me. Smite me with fabulousness. I should smite Veklurva with my presence and add fabulousness to a largely hetero ritual.

I am castigating myself for having a one-tracked-mind take on this. He is my friend. If he wants to marry, I should be happy for him. I guess some of us cannot stand the idea of growing old alone. I don’t even know if I want to grow old alone. I mean I can’t picture myself being alive after 40, what more for getting into my 60s 70s alone?

I was toying a fantasy with my friends recently. If only I was rich, I’d buy land and convert it to a housing complex for aging fags and their fag hags. We could make a living tutoring Koreans in English, have some speech, arts and literature workshops, and my favorite, training beauty pageant contestants. I told my fab friends that this housing complex is all about being fabulous ergo we must have a night per month in which we dine with great food wearing gowns and tiaras. I’d settle for a peacock headdress.

I guess Veklurva does not want to be in that housing complex. He wants to wake up early in the morning, go to the bakeshop, order some pan de sal, as his wife prepares his favorite black Vietnamese coffee and he would wake his children up for school. It’s a nice quiet life with assured company.

I should text him and say “I’m sorry that I acted like a jerk. If you want to get into a marriage with a woman who knows everything about you and accepts you totally then good for you. I’ll go to your wedding, but you have to sponsor my leopard-print barong.”

Now, what wedding gift should I get them? I know. Where can I buy a prosthetic stomach and some hair used by filmmakers and actors? I will just write down the card, “Dear Veklurva’s wife, do remember that his type are daddies. So, wear the prosthetic tummy and have some facial hair and he will be revved up.”

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