That One Time I Was Gay
God, I love the digital keyboard! Edits are easy, mistakes fixed with a copy taps of the backspace key or highlighted with a mouse and changed. When I'm writing, my mind moves way faster than my hands, and I'll go back and reread things I wrote and realize I left out letters or even words. With a keyboard, fixing those little oversights is easy. Which why I prefer it so much more than scrawling by hand with pen and paper. Especially pen.
So a little over 5 years ago, one of my good friends (one o' my best, really) got married. He and his wife pretty much are a perfect match. I was one of his roommates at the time and we all got along like gangbusters, in spite of an overwhelming number of "I'm the affair" jokes I made about his future wife.
I'm nearly 100% positive all those jokes were not the reason I wasn't in the wedding party and it had more to do with space in the group and how long other people had been friends and actually deserved to be in the wedding party. Besides, even though I didn't get to stand with the group or sit at the table, they never once treated me like I wasn't part of the group. (Christ, it sounds like I'm whining. I'm not. This is all the set up, that's all)
|The happy couple.|
Anyway, wedding was gorgeous and so was the reception. They had one of those photos at the church you could sign so that you'll always have a written record of who witnessed the occasion, or something. I'm not sure what the point of those photos are for, but a lot of weddings have em. The picture they chose was pretty silly and reminded me of their dog Bear.
|Not Bear, but like Bear.|
Well the photo they decided to take for people to sign looked like they were going to eat each other's face, kind of like this:
Anyway, at the reception, the alcohol flowed in abundance. I never got quite to the stage of drunk, but I danced around the edges quite a bit. The reception was a lovely party where all the usual speeches, dances, and what-not occurred.
At one point, however, the Best Man walks up to me while I'm smoking a cigarette.
"Mike," he says, "I'm not sure why, but one of the groom's cousins is telling people you're gay."
"Really?" I ask. This seemed like a great opportunity for a bit of fun. I had no idea how this rumor got started but it seemed silly not to mess with people.
Then the Happy Couple approached, concerned. "Hey man," the groom says, "my cousin keeps telling people you're gay. I've tried to assure him you're not, but he's still spreading that around."
Not being The Guy That Starts Fights At Weddings, I told him it's no big deal. Sure, I was curious why he thought I was gay, and wondered if his cousin was making this assumption based on me not being in the wedding party.
Anyway, I let the matter drop and focused on having a good time. I had work that evening, but it would be for only a couple hours and then I'd meet up with everyone at the after-party for more drinking. The reception, you see, was more for close friends and family. The after-party was for all the other good friends that couldn't fit into the reception.
When I got home from work, the party was in full swing. And by full swing I mean FULL SWING. There was much drunken debauchery going on. As I approached, one of the groomsmen was hosing his own vomit down the driveway towards the gutter (long story, but suffice to say, he earned it and rallied like a freakin' champ).
I go inside, drop off my stuff and grab a beer. As I drink my beer, I see on the kitchen counter the picture that everyone signed at the church. So I go over and start looking at what everyone wrote. I quickly saw my signature, where I wrote, just above their heads, "Great imitation of Bear! I love you guys!"
Except that wasn't what I wrote. And suddenly I realized why there was a rumor floating about the wedding that I was gay. Apparently my brain was moving faster than my pen, and I didn't write the word "you".