for my father
We were sitting at a table on the patio of a little mexican place. It was down the street form one of the more famous gay bars in town.We ordered a pitcher of margaritas, Tom, my sister Birdie and myself.
A gaggle of gay men came out on the patio. One of them regarded the heater standing there. It was a crisp fall evening.
They were all very sharply dressed, laughing and talking excitedly to one another. They seemed to be having a grand time.
"The waitress will turn that on for you if you want." I told him.
"I bet she will" he said. "I heard that about her."
We all giggled and the guys took up seats around a neighboring table. We drank our margaritas.
Two men walked down the street toward the bar. One of them was wearing a cowboy hat.
The guys at the table next to us spotted them.
"OOh!" one of them cooed "Look at those girls! HI GIRLS!" he called to the men in the street. The guy with the cowboy hat waved and smiled.
They all continued to laugh and joke with each other, gossiping about this and that. Tom and Birdie and I talked to each other and continued to drink our margaritas.
More gay men came and joined the group, each more sharply dressed and entertaining than the last. They all had the same excited look on their faces, as though they were just happy to be there.
I looked over at Tom, slouching in his chair with his hands in his pockets, and then down at myself, with my margarita resting on my belly and my shirt untucked and hanging.
No wonder women like gay guys so much. We're slobs.
Whenever I meet a gay man, I want to tell him about my Dad being gay, as if to say "It's ok, my dad's gay. I'm not a homophobe". I love my dad. Dad loves another man.
What kills me is Dad says he has always known he was gay, yet he has been married twice. Once because he was brought up to believe that that's what men did, and the second time because he thought his children needed a mother figure. That she turned out to be a raging alcoholic was just a shitty accident.
You can't tell an abuser, or a drunkard by looking at them, but you can sure as fuck tell someone who has just come out to the world for who they really are.
They will be smiling and talking excitedly, just happy to be with other people like them.
My dad has that look, that attitude.
I love my dad.
<-- | Comments(0) | -->