Sunday, April 01, 2007
Three (Gay) Men and a Baby
Being a gay man at a party that is predominantly a heterosexual affair can be a bit of an eye-opener. Too often we gay folk loose ourselves in our own little worlds, and when we stumble off of Fabulous Street and walk into Stepford we realize that our worlds (while they exist side by side) seem miles away.
Yesterday, Whatshisname and I went to my friend's (Miss Bubbles) house for her son's first birthday. Little Bruno (son of Miss Bubbles) is one adorable tyke. He's always smiling, never seems to put up a fuss and is destined to be a real heart-breaker some day.
When we got to the party, we wandered into a living room awash with rug rats and said rug rats mothers.
You have to be careful in a room full of small children, they are constantly underfoot and in to everything. A television was propped up on the coffee table playing cartoons, toys were strewn about the floor and the carpet crawlers held sway.
But enough about the kids, let's talk about their mothers.
I have this theory about attractive people. I find that good-looking people seem to travel in flocks.
Now, Miss Bubbles is one very attractive woman, in fact, she causes many of my straight male co-workers to go weak in the knees.
That said, her friends are all beautiful women.
Honestly, one by one, as more and more of these lady's arrived, I realized that I was surrounded by some of the most devastatingly gorgeous gals in South Jersey. Most of them had children of their own, and those that did not were heavy with child ... all in all a strange mix of sexuality and maternity. Even Whatshisname mentioned on the physical attributes of the women.
Anyway, with a room full of women and children, me and my partner were the only guys in the room.
Happily, The Contessa showed up and brought our ranks up one.
Tossing her large, gaudily wrapped present into the arms of Miss Bubbles and air kissing me and Whatshisname, she realized rather quickly that there was no alcohol being served at this soirée.
"Doll," she said reaching into her bag, "that's why I always carry a reserve".
And with that she pulled out a monogrammed flask and poured a healthy shot of rot-gut into her diet coke, took a healthy swig, perched herself on a barstool and surveyed the room.
"Christ, is this an audition for Playboy Playmates?" she asked after spotting all of the tanned and perfect women in the room, and then added, "What's with all these children? Shouldn't they leave these little bastards at home?"
I reminded the Contessa that this was a birthday party for the hostesses son, but she waved my comment aside and said, "Honey, that's what we have servants for, to care for the spawn!"
Soon, the birthday boy toddled our way and I picked him up and gave him a lift in the air and he cooed happily. Then Whatshisname put him on his shoulders and the little guy yelped in joy ... but when he was passed to The Contessa, she held him at arms length, frowned at him and gave him back to his mother saying, "He's cute, do you have any hand sanitizer, those things are just crawling with germs!"
After the food was served and the cake presented, we bid our farewells and made our way out of Stepford back to Fabulous street...