As I pride myself on knowing my people, I do a little checking on him in case I need to fake an interest later. His online entry in the company directory includes an extremely ill-advised link to his blog. He’s only been out of college a few weeks and, while the latest entries are fairly anodyne, many of those among the archives constitute a master’s degree course in the more bizarre practices of the modern gay scene. All that was missing was a glossary. Thank God there were no pictures.
I’m amazed that he listed it, really. Perhaps he’s just forgotten what wonders he shared in his college posts. I suppose someone should warn the poor boy to clean his blog up, or at least stop listing it on the company intranet. But knowing modern corporate culture as I do, I am certainly not stupid enough to start any conversation that is going to end with me saying “and that’s why I think you should censor your gay blog”.
It all goes to show how useless my gaydar is. Lispy as he was on the phone, the word “gay” simply didn’t occur to me until that bit with the three Moroccans and the bucket of hummous on June 5th 2004. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been caught unawares either. On at least two occasions in the past I have gone out for a pint with a colleague only to discover about halfway into the evening that I’m actually on a date.
With my accent I suppose I’m asking for it, especially over here in the US. But it is a little tiresome to keep having the same conversation over and over again in the showers at the gym:
“No, I’m not gay – just British.”
“Yes, there’s a difference - gay people have better teeth.”
“And no, that’s not my soap on the floor, thanks all the same.”
How’s your gaydar?
Gaydar – now only $14.99 plus tax, from Radio Shack.