merry and gay

Somewhat randomly, tonight I ended up at a fundraiser party for my friend Elizabeth’s partner who is running for city council. Her partner’s platform concentrates on LGBT rights, and I’ve been to some of her events before, the last one at Cubbyhole, the lesbian bar in the West Village. 

As expected, the party was mass of mainly gay men and a few lesbian couples. Yet, I got slightly excited when I recognized the photographer from the last event. That time, he had been kind enough to smile, put down his camera, and chat me up a bit. Now, Smith has fucked up my male gaydar (with females I’m spot on), but I’ve regained some sense of it in the past year. 

Seeing him again tonight, I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eye and we both smiled. 

While speeches were going on, I whispered to a female friend, “So, we know the photographer isn’t gay, right?”

A man in front of us turned his head and giggled.

“What? Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yes,” the man replied. “GAY.”