IT’S FUN TO BE GAY, PART 2

At any time I can count my gay friends on one hand. Attrition stays high — disappearance, permanent fallings-out, deaths. Don’t be deceived by television’s sunny portrayals. The waters of gay life are cold, choppy, and polluted.

One of my few surviving homosexual friends, a perpetually single type, once told me the following true story of something that happened to him.

He lived in a two-bedroom apartment with a roommate, also gay. I don’t know the roommate (he’s still alive and still friends with my friend) well enough to know what his own personal fatal flaw is, I’m told he’s nice and personable (they always are!), but he reportedly has a habit of dating crazies (not that there is any other kind of gay person!).

One night my friend came home after 2 o’clock, drunk. So as not to disturb his roommate, whose room adjoined the kitchen, he didn’t turn on any lights. He just breezed in the back door then through the kitchen and the main hallway to his room in the front of the apartment.

Later that a.m. he awoke and dressed for work. Walking the reverse direction through the kitchen, with early daylight coming through the windows, he could see that a dead body was on the kitchen floor by the sink. Blood covered that corner of the kitchen. If he had chosen to get a drink of water when he had come home from the bar the night before, he would have discovered the body then. Probably even slipped in the blood slick.

The body was that of the roommate’s latest/late crazy boyfriend, who had stabbed himself to death by plunging a steak knife into his stomach.

Isn’t it fun to be gay?

Another day, another mess to be cleaned up. Got to clean your kitchen again, seems like that’s all you ever do.