Here's a place to talk about the relationships in your life whenever you want.
I am not the most politically correct person in the world, as those of you I pissed off by talking about crack-smoking transsexuals already realize. I'm not sure how it happened exactly, since back in high school I could circulate a petition with the best of them, and casual sexism and homophobia used to make me teary-eyed with frustrated rage.
I think the change may have something to do with moving to New York from suburban Oklahoma and realizing that liberals are often just as ignorant, entitled and annoying as the conservatives I grew up around. And also just needing to detach myself from a cultural discourse that makes me so freaking angry that if I let myself think about all of it, I wouldn't be able to function.
Here's a secret: I have never voted. Know why? Trying to follow the 2008 political election left me so furious that I couldn't have a conversation about it that didn't end in tears and yelling. I gave up before the primaries.
But there is one little political thing that tweaks my long-dormant indignance, and it's this pocket gay phenomenon.
I have a best friend who happens to be a gay man. His name is Taylor Greeson, and we met in high-school, when I was going through my lesbian phase and spent a lot of our formative years driving around, smoking cigarettes at diners and being bored out of our skulls in suburban Oklahoma. Although he now lives in L.A., and I live in New York, and we're terrible about keeping in touch, I consider him to be my best friend and he considers me to be his. Notice I did not say he's my "best gay friend," or worse "my best gay."
In this photo, Taylor is holding a little dog, which is sort of what I picture when women refer to their homosexual friends this way. Like the friend is a little dog or a sparkly pashmina that has anal sex with other men. As Tay says, "When girls say things like 'I have to ask my gay,' I always want to ask them in return, 'Oh, where is he? Is he...um...in your purse there? Where is the little guy?'"
The mini-gay boyfriend app seems to be aimed at gay men rather than straight women who like to accessorize with homosexuals, but the language is the same. Their tagline -- "What you've always wanted: a gay boyfriend that fits in your pocket" -- might as well be the club motto for a certain type of woman who fetishizes friendship with gay men. And a gay man is not a toy. He's a person, who probably does not want to be seen as the human equivalent of this season's gold wristcuff.
That said, I literally cannot stop laughing at the "Fatbooth" app, and I think the first guy to create a fart app is a goddamn genius, so I'm not really that upset about it.
But if you're going to refer to one group of friends by their sexual preferences, I think you should refer to all your friends that way -- "So I was out with my friend who loves anal" or I was out with my "bicurious when she has too much to drink" friend. Cool? Cool.
Also, the "pagan one"? Is that a real category of gay people?