They are here.
The day my parents arrive also happens to be the last day my dearest friend is in town. My dearest friend leaves on tour tomorrow for two and a half months. It was of the utmost importance that my parents met my dearest friend (and his boyfriend) as these two fine gentlemen are a very dear and important part of my life. So, off the three of us go, through the gay village of Toronto, to a very hip, stylish, and young shin dig.
Awkward. There my parents meet Scott. I barely recognize Scott, and Scott barely recognizes me. We drunkenly made out at a dance club about a month earlier. Scott gave me his number. I thought I saved his digits in my phone, but two days later, when I went to call him, I discovered, in my drunken reverie, I did not succeed in saving Scott's phone number into my cell. (I will get his number from My dearest friend later). Scott and I both become aware of our dirty secret. My parents are blissfully ignorant.
The party is hot. Many hot homos and fabulous femmes are in attendance. My parents are privy to my personal party life. They talk about their back packing trip in Europe with interested hot homos. They easily make conversation with the young, hip, and stylish fabulous femmes. Parents seem to be the New Black: They go with whatever you wear: You can take them to any party.
I am a fortunate son. I am neither ashamed of what my personal acquaintances will think about my parents, nor am I ashamed of what my parents will think of my social circle. Of course, there are details that no parent needs to be aware of, but everything else in my life is an open book for all to see (Hence this blog).
The day my parents arrive also happens to be the last day my dearest friend is in town. My dearest friend leaves on tour tomorrow for two and a half months. It was of the utmost importance that my parents met my dearest friend (and his boyfriend) as these two fine gentlemen are a very dear and important part of my life. So, off the three of us go, through the gay village of Toronto, to a very hip, stylish, and young shin dig.
Awkward. There my parents meet Scott. I barely recognize Scott, and Scott barely recognizes me. We drunkenly made out at a dance club about a month earlier. Scott gave me his number. I thought I saved his digits in my phone, but two days later, when I went to call him, I discovered, in my drunken reverie, I did not succeed in saving Scott's phone number into my cell. (I will get his number from My dearest friend later). Scott and I both become aware of our dirty secret. My parents are blissfully ignorant.
The party is hot. Many hot homos and fabulous femmes are in attendance. My parents are privy to my personal party life. They talk about their back packing trip in Europe with interested hot homos. They easily make conversation with the young, hip, and stylish fabulous femmes. Parents seem to be the New Black: They go with whatever you wear: You can take them to any party.
I am a fortunate son. I am neither ashamed of what my personal acquaintances will think about my parents, nor am I ashamed of what my parents will think of my social circle. Of course, there are details that no parent needs to be aware of, but everything else in my life is an open book for all to see (Hence this blog).
I am proud of who I am,
which includes being proud of my parents
as well as
being proud of the company I keep.
which includes being proud of my parents
as well as
being proud of the company I keep.
2 comments:
hey. i thought i was your dearest friend. i also thought fat was the new black.
so which is it?
Fat was the new black last year (fat is the old black - RETRO!). You're my deerest Friend. You got mixed up
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