Two things happened. The vet made a house call to treat our menagerie and I left to work at a coffeeshop because I’m gay. Now, I’m pretty delighted I live in a world where my vet will a) make house calls and b) I can afford this too-good-to-be-true luxury. But I am not delighted that the vet they sent is the one who is rumored to be homophobic. So I left my wife to it rather than be out. How is it that it was easier to be semi-closeted than to deal with any repercussions for being a lady loving family? Ha. Lady loving.
And yes, Dear Reader, I know you would have been perfectly happy confronting him with The Gay or even gotten a different vet, but I LOVE our regular vet and it’s worth it, at least for now, to stick with the practice. So there I sat, gay as the day is long, drinking coffee and working while my wife dealt with the vet. Non-gayly presumably. It’s a lovely decade to live in, until it’s not*.
*Which, don’t even mention the shambles around us, both in the US and outside of it. Shambles.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: M/D |
Counting Chickens 
No. This is not okay.
Agreed.
I don’t think we’ve ever talked about your “gayness”. Hmmmm I’m intrigued.
There’s not a laughing-hard-enough emoji for your comment, friend.