Your personal Tumblr library awaits
There's been a lot of stuff in my walk through life that I've been mistaken for because of my looks and mannerisms.
I've been thought to be Indian, Cuban, some sort of Pacific Islander, or something or other. But those don't usually come about as often as a certain one does.
For more times than I can remember, I've been assumed to be gay...a lot of times.
The first time it happened was when I was at work helping a woman with finding some CDs.
About two hours into my shift at work, a woman approached me asking me for help looking for a CD. She had on a deep purple blouse accompanied by a black button-up cardigan. Her shoulder-length hair bobbed with anxious energy as her head craned from left to right in search of something. As per my salesman script, I asked what type she was looking for and she replied in hushed tones “I’m a little embarrassed to say this;” she then leaned in closer the, almost whispering “I’m looking for… Broadway musicals.”
I waved my hand as if to shoo away her concerns. “Oh no worries,” I said “I listen to everything from Wu-Tang to Dolly Parton, so you have nothing to worry about.” We then shared a little chortle as I led her to the music section.
As I was searching for her CD she said “Oh look.” To the right of us was a line-up of Dolly Parton’s albums. The first in line depicted Dolly in a tight Pepto-Bismol-pink colored dress that was so tight it looked painted on. She was reclining on what looked like a bale of hay. Her hair took up three quarters of the album art. Her bosoms handled the rest.
We both stared at this case for only a moment – no more than two seconds when this woman chimed in:
“Look at this, you must have loved this one since you’re gay.”
“What?”
“You know, you’re gay, right?”
“Actually no, I’m… I’m not.”
“Oh…”
After this exchange a great silence fell. Her eyes held a plaintive wideness as if she was waiting for me to say “Just kidding, I am gay!” and she could breathe a sigh of relief. But it did not come. And then each muscle in her face went slack one fiber at a time. As if the realization of her folly was weighing down on her cheeks and crow’s feet.
In that fleeting silence that lasted forever, I wonder what might have caused her to think it. Was it that I liked Dolly Parton? My black thick-rimmed glasses? My mannerisms? Or was it the lisp? Something had to be done to break the tension.
I slowly turned around and picked up the complete musical adaption of Phantom of the Opera from the rack and offered it to her with a guileless smile.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
She replied with a hasty jumble of syllables that I could not make out, and quickly made her exit
Honestly, that was the first of many times that people thought I was gay and I can't truly grasp why. I suppose, it may come from me being a good dresser? I'm well spoken? I can dance with some resemblance of rhythm?
All these things are at best, the stereotypical facets of homosexuality, but if that is the components that people based their assumptions of me, does that mean - at least in a dichotomy sense - that straight men are a mass of poorly dressed neanderthals?
While it doesn't happen every day, it has occurred in a startlingly quick rate.
I think it's a matter of the times. In older time periods, in the time of the dandy gentleman, I would be considered pretty friggin' manly with my sweet capes and hats.
author: Discovery
summary: Kalim lost a toy, but Jamil is shocked to find out where he lost it. And Kalim really needs his help to retrieve it.