That's What She Said

I spent the night with Aurora and Nadia, who might soon qualify as my unofficial fag hags. Sitting around their kitchen table for story-swapping and group therapy, I felt a little bit like a 2009 version of the Golden Girls, if the Girls were all in their 20s, rented rather than owned, and if one of them were a queer male instead of a post-menopausal woman. (One more difference of note: we nibbled on calorically-more-acceptable gummy worms, rather than gorging ourselves on cheesecake.)

Dissecting a yellow and green gelatious specimen, I relayed some of the highlights of a recent weekend church retreat. Under the halogen lighting, the sugar-coated worm shone like it were covered in Swarovski crystals.

"You know what you should do," Aurora broke in. "You need to divide your life equitably." She lowered her chin, and looked up at me as though this pronouncement were an Idiot's Guide to Being Christian and Gay, complete with detailed, step-by-step instructions on how I should carry out the next two months.

I was unable to interpret the oracle. "What does that mean?"

"So, you went on a church retreat for the weekend, and gave two and half days to God? Well, then you need to go on a gay retreat and give two and half days to men. You can't live with imbalance." Apparently very satisfied with this advice, she treated herself to a red and blue worm. "When do you want to go gay clubbing? Nadia and I will take you."

I'm not sure that this is the best suggestion for my situation, but it is what she said.