My Experimental Stage
Some people say that I’m on my way down the hill. That I went over it a few years ago and that I’m on the slippery, crow-eyed slide towards death now. Getting old is fine for women but it’s a different story for men. As they say, ‘A woman is like a fine bottle of wine’ – which has never made to sense to me because, from I am told, older women go off.
Anyway, the point is that I am as young and hearty as ever, as I have just gone through the ‘experimental stage’ of my life. Yes, for a couple of months there, I was a self-proclaimed homosexual: I spent an extra 2 hours shaving every morning, I went on a blouse-shopping spree, and I campaigned against the rampant stereotyping of homosexuals in the Western World. I did it all.
But rather than getting on board the seedy underbelly of seedy men in the city’s seedy underbelly, I went for a more wholesome approach: The Gay and Merry Men of Christmas Present – a choir of all-male carolers.
It was a newly-gay man’s paradise. The male carolers were walking around in nothing but reindeer harnessing gear and green Swedish pants. I could barely contain myself I was so blown away.
Unfortunately for me and my experimental stage, I had misjudged the situation. During rehearsal on my first day, I pinched the bottom of the young man in front of me during the second verse of ‘Oh Holy Night’. A number of the male sopranos saw this and were less than impressed. It seemed as though The Gay and Merry Men of Christmas Present was not a choir of gay men, but a group of carol-enthusiasts who really were nothing more than gay and merry – in the same way that Christmas is gay and merry, and not at all sexual, let alone homosexual. I was then viciously bashed and kicked out of the premises by the men, who turned out to me neither homosexual, nor gay and merry.
And thus ended my ‘experimental stage’. Something that, once the bruises and internal bleeding cleared up, I was glad to have done, for it proved to everyone that I am young at heart. Just not literally, as the bashing did come close to puncturing my aorta.
Anyway, the point is that I am as young and hearty as ever, as I have just gone through the ‘experimental stage’ of my life. Yes, for a couple of months there, I was a self-proclaimed homosexual: I spent an extra 2 hours shaving every morning, I went on a blouse-shopping spree, and I campaigned against the rampant stereotyping of homosexuals in the Western World. I did it all.
But rather than getting on board the seedy underbelly of seedy men in the city’s seedy underbelly, I went for a more wholesome approach: The Gay and Merry Men of Christmas Present – a choir of all-male carolers.
It was a newly-gay man’s paradise. The male carolers were walking around in nothing but reindeer harnessing gear and green Swedish pants. I could barely contain myself I was so blown away.
Unfortunately for me and my experimental stage, I had misjudged the situation. During rehearsal on my first day, I pinched the bottom of the young man in front of me during the second verse of ‘Oh Holy Night’. A number of the male sopranos saw this and were less than impressed. It seemed as though The Gay and Merry Men of Christmas Present was not a choir of gay men, but a group of carol-enthusiasts who really were nothing more than gay and merry – in the same way that Christmas is gay and merry, and not at all sexual, let alone homosexual. I was then viciously bashed and kicked out of the premises by the men, who turned out to me neither homosexual, nor gay and merry.
And thus ended my ‘experimental stage’. Something that, once the bruises and internal bleeding cleared up, I was glad to have done, for it proved to everyone that I am young at heart. Just not literally, as the bashing did come close to puncturing my aorta.
posted by Charlie Messier | 5:14 PM
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