"Hi I'm Sean."
"Your forehead is so wrinkled I could wash clothes on it." said X gay man.
"Hi I'm Sean."
"26? You look a lot older!" said Y gay man.
And my favorite...
"Hi, I'm Sean."
'Yeah, I don't have time to talk to a burn victim!"
Honestly, I turned away. A little drunk and very tired...I started crying. I'm ashamed to say that he saw me choke up and was shocked that it actually hurt me.
"No, I'm kidding! Haha!" he squealed.
"Oh, I'm just tired and my eyes hurt. I know you're kidding!" I chuckled. I couldn't even admit to HIM that I felt like the ugliest person in the solar system, which is saying something because Singapore is full of really awful-looking retards.
It was a long day waiting tables and doing stand-up, but I was trying to be confident, rational, and mature...but no luck. My ride home is filled with snot and tears. I have an emotional cancer to be loved by everyone, but especially the people who up until 3 years ago I loathed: Gay men. Prada-loving, connexion-cruising, self-hating, meth-binging, age-defying, lying-bottoms Faggots. I'm happy I've welcomed them back into my heart.
These men don't realize that if they'd talked to me 5 years ago I would have been a floundering beached whale with ugly sandals. They're getting a fuckin treat, now! Even Danny, a guy who I dated briefly this summer was fond of mentioning the abundance of my stretch marks pre-sex. Never once did I mention to him that his ciggarette breath made me want to die. But he loved telling me that I didn't have enough clothes in my closet and that he was "tired" of seeing me in blue. "Wow, your pores are huge!" he liked saying during make-outs. It makes me feel like an Ogre listening to these guys talk about my 26 year old laugh lines.
I've been a militant best friend since 2003 to every LGBT (Yeah...you-know-me!) who I meet, which is stupid. Then booed off stage by lesbians, cattily hushed by the drag queen who checks ID's at Mickeys, and scoffed at by every white gay man I meet in Sacramento, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, Long Beach, Boise, and Detroit. I've learned that on a scale of 1-10, in my own mind, I'm average...a 5 or 6, but in the white gay world...I'm an Aardvark.
But last night was different because it was a Puerto Rican who said I was ugly. They always love me. My ass is big, and that has always been my meal ticket with latins. Not this one. I felt betrayed. Like I was P. Diddy being dumped by J-Lo right before the verdict. Now, I am alone in my quest to be respected by the gays. I attract a very specific type: STRAIGHT WOMEN.
Straight women have taught me the lesson of my life, that I am not the average girl from the vid-e-o. That I treat people how I want to be treated. I don't tell people that they are ugly or fat or too chinky or too femme or poor. I say it about their friends. Golden rule, ladies. Golden Rule.
We spend so much time trying to find ways to bring average people down a peg. What do I get out of making you more humble? And it's not just gay guys who do it. Straight men are assholes, too. And women can be bitches, vicious cunts, even. Come to think of it, all people in their 20's waste their lives trying to make people feel bad. Life is too short, people - and we're all going to die...of AIDS, anyway!