What Gay Means To Me

YEARS ago....
I went to a gay support group meeting with some of my nearest and dearest. A very good friend of mine at the time was quite keen on becomming a mentor in the gay community and thus sucked the rest of us into attending a meeting.
It happened to be around the time of the cities pride festivities so we painted banners to carry in the parade (which most of my friends backed out of doing).
But, there was a question presented during the meeting which later became the butt of jokes for my friend Dan and I.
The question...
WHAT DOES PRIDE MEAN TO YOU?
Seated in a circle the question passed from one fag to a dyke and back to a fag until it got to me.
Face burning red I spouted out something about not being ashamed of who you are. At the time it felt prophetic, smart, well thought out.
Now, my answer would be absurd, naieve, unfounded and ignorant.
NOW, i have more to base it on.
Lets start with my first boyfriend.
I spotted him in a bar and sent my friend Deanna over to talk to him. She asked if he was single and he responded that he was, but that he was gay.
Sorry sweetheart, no fish in my diet
But she told him that she was in fact asking on behalf of her friend.
Enter Ian, standing against the far wall looking around as if he didn't know what was going on.
Said guy told my friend that I was cute, and to have me come and talk to him myself.
I walked over, asked if he would be there the following saturday, he said he would, and then I said goodbye and walked away.
In the car I felt like a louse.
I was in fact.
But the following saturday I made my way back, we exchanged phone numbers and the rest (although short lived) was history.
The most predominant memory I have from that relationship is as follows...
We pulled into the driveway of the house that he shared with his roomate. A foreign car was parked in the driveway, boyfriend of the time exclaimed "Oh no, Kevin's mother is here".
I wanted to drive away, but I kept cool.
Boyfriend of the time opened the front door and walked into the house, myself following closely behind. Roomate and roomate's mother were seated on the blue faux suede L Couch in the livingroom.
Roomate: "Oh, there's Michael, and his new honey hole".
The mother gasped and swated her son, acting ashamed while she giggled reluctantly.
Boyfriend: "Kevin" agitated.
Me: "Hi, I'm Ian, the new honey hole"
Mother: "Oh jesus, sorry about my son Ian, nice to meet you!"
No one was more sorry about her son at that moment then i was.
fuckin HONEY HOLE.
The relationship lasted about 5 months, and the thing that sticks out the most is getting called HONEY HOLE by some obtuse fag with nil social skills.
COMING OUT
I told my mother over the phone, I was away at school.
She didn't believe me, thought I was 'pulling her leg'. I used the F-Word (uncharacteristic at the time for the relationship that my mom and I shared). When I said fuck in my exclamation, she gasped. Not at the word fuck, well okay, maybe a bit, but that was when the realization set it. I didn't talk to her or my father for months afterwards. Not by their choice, but by mine. In the end my father was cool with it all. My mom took me to a shrink. The shrink told me that all kinds of people can be gay, doctors can be gay, lawyers can be gay, just because I was gay doesn't mean I couldn't achieve my dreams.
Did that mean I'd be sucking Arnold Schwarzeneggers cock by that time the following week?
Not so much.
It meant I could learn not two be so stoopid ifv I weally twried.
FUCK OFF.
Then she made me say that i was gay.
Me: "I'm Gay"
Shrink: "Now say it like you mean it"
Me: "I'm Gay"
Shrink: "No, c'mon, say it like you really mean it"
I'm fucking gay, wanna throw a cock in my ass and hear me squeal you sick fucking twat?
Me: "I'm Gay"
All the time my mother sat in the waiting room hoping I'd resurface with a copy of 'Swank Magazine' in my hand and a noticeable hardon in my Joe Boxers.
I didn't, I just resurfaced the gay kid who had admitted it 21 times in the past 15 minutes.
GAY BARS
They're fun in the way that a car accident can be fun if no one gets hurt. Like the excitement of the rush you wish you could relive, but at the time it's all whirlwind and encompassing. That's the diamond nights though. It can also be trying to avoid the OBVIOUS stare of a man who resembles your father yet dressed in leather, like the BLUE OYSTER of police acadamy fame. Or worse.....
Creep: "If I get some cocaine, will you sleep with me?"
Me: "Sure, if you get some coke I will"
Creep: "Okay honey, I'll be back"
Me: running to my friends "Oh my gawd, you would not believe this, that black guy with the green contact lenses just asked me if I'd sleep with him if he got some cocaine"~!
Friends: "What did you say"?
Me: "I said i would, like, where's he going to find cociane here"?
I was in a fucking gay bar! I didn't think he'd be able to find cocaine?!?
later
I walk out to the cab, dude with the creepy contact lenses runs over holding a small bag with a drug i didn't even know you could get in Canada and asks where I live.
Me: "Oh, I don't do cocaine"
Jump into cab and drive away.
There are worse pick up lines, but, I don't even like it when people assume I smoke cigarettes, let alone snort fucking coke. i felt cheap. I fart on creepy contact lens guy.
STRAIGHT PEOPLE
It's a love hate relationship. As in, I love some of them, and hate some more of them.
Straight people: "When did you know"?
Me: "OMG, Just now when I realized how horrible it would be if I had to spend the rest of my life living with you."
Straight people: "Is there always a man and woman"?
Me: "No, there's always two men or two women, that's what makes it GAY you grain fed fuck stick"
Straight people: "Is it a choice"?
Me: "Whether or not I crotch punch you right now is a choice"
Straight People: "I'm so proud of you for admitting who you are"
Me: puking.....violently
Straight people: "It must be so hard for you"
Me: "well, it's hard for me, but I think lesbians like it softer"
Straight people: "How did you know you were gay"?
Me: "C'mere, I wanna kiss you deeply and with tongue, OH NO, I DON'T, does that mean I'm a homo"?

In conclusion....
WHAT DOES GAY MEAN TO ME?
Fags have no tact, gay bars are hit and miss, with too many miss's and not enough hittin, and stupid people are still breeding.
Could I paint that on a pride banner?