So it's been almost four months now and, let me tell you, I'm bumping into the local gays more and more.

Let there be no doubt, I knew more of us were out here somewhere. I just hadn't uncovered them yet. Of course, I wasn't looking terribly hard.

Mom sent me to the hardware store a couple weeks ago. I know. She also sends me to the store to buy her cigarettes. I make sure I get the wrong brand, or tell her "they didn't have it" so she'll stop. Again, it's been four months and she's only now realizing it doesn't pay to have me run these errands.

Anyway, I'm at the hardware store in search of ... something. Oh, I remember. She was canning vegetables or fruit or something and needed something a bit heavier than cheesecloth. I remember cheesecloth because that's what I found when I asked for whatever that other stuff was at the hardware store.

The lady who helped me went out of her way to tell me that "my girlfriend" cans all the time -- or whatever language canners use to describe what they do -- "and she uses the cheesecloth, no problem."

Hmm. Your girlfriend, eh?

It's been four months and I'm the only person who says "eh" and I say it really pronounced, though I'm the only one who finds it funny.

I'm not the kind of person to go climbing all over another gay just because I've discovered you, so I let it slide. It took awhile but I realized a month or so ago that I've been sending out signals all along.

My mom and brother sent me to the McDonald's -- it must seem I'm their slave -- and, after I placed my drive-thru order and rounded to the window, it seemed the boy helping me suddenly became my best friend.

I kind of squinted my eyes and quickly shot him a "we ain't friends" look, but it didn't go away. I paid and grabbed my food and, only then, as I leaned in to shift into drive, I glanced down and noticed I was wearing a t-shirt with a great big ol' rainbow all up on it. That alone probably makes me the flaming-est queer for miles.

All those young "look at me," "ain't I just the weirdest thing" gays are the only ones locally I found on Facebook. They, needless to say, mean nothing to me. I suppose we all went through the "taking back my queer" phase. Problem is, once you're past it you realize how dumb it is.

I sometimes figure that my resentment of all the phases I went through won't help me be a better parent someday. It's sure not helping me be a better friend to those I know who have kids. No example here, just trust me.

I went to a buffet restaurant for lunch today and immediately scoped out the most handsome blue-eyed blue collar in the place. It didn't take me long to figure out that he -- sans wedding band -- was scoping out the room too.

"How YOU durrin'?" I thought, as I realigned and adjusted the lenses on my gaydar. But just saying those words lapsed me into memories of all my favorite quotes from the movie "Norbit." I find excuses to repeat this one all the time...

"Goddammit, Norbit. How many times I gotta tell you, when you drive my car don't adjust my seat! Look, when I inhale my titty make the horn honk, listen...
[honk]
See that?
[honk]
That ain't right.
[honk]
That scientifically proves that you was adjusting my seat."

Whenever anyone says the words "that ain't right" I nearly fall to the ground with laughter, then I repeat it over and over again, then go back to the top and the "Goddammit, Norbit" line and start all over.

So anyway, a moment later when my mind trailed back to the blue-eyed blue collar, it was just in time to realize he was either insanely ignunt, or blind, or he was specifically cruising the old, old menz.

I tell ya: sometimes it ain't easy for a gay guy out here in the bush.

Photo courtesy of Red Bull

Red Bull Unlocked Nashville


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Photo courtesy of Rumble Boxing Gulch Nashville

Rumble Boxing Gulch, Nashville


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