I am who I am

Growing up, I was always very proud of being a Missouri boy. I am still proud of my roots. Often professing to be white trash, hillbilly, and telling people I have cousins that are married (which is true, they are 3rd cousins, but still….). However, the longer I am in Colorado, the more I go to fancy cities, and the larger my circle of gay friends becomes, the more I realize that I really am all those things I have professed to be, and at times, I can embarrass myself because of it.
I used to have very nice cars, now I have a silver contour. I sold my others when I needed cash, and this one only needs liability insurance. It’s not a bad car, it just looks like an old grandma owns it. I got rear-ended a couple months ago, which cracked my rear bumper in a variety of patterns, and I don’t feel the need to have it fixed. Looks real classy. Today, in the pouring rain, my diver’s side window wiper broke. It made a loud crashing noise. Of course, I screamed and looked up. I thought a tree branch was coming through the roof. It wasn’t. Obviously. So, here I am in my beat up grandma car, trying to fix my wiper while not colliding with oncoming traffic. Apparently, I am missing a screw. (Don’t saying anything, too easy.) I can get it attached and it stays on for several miles. I am on my fifth time of fixing it in the past couple hours. Real chic. No wonder I don’t have a boyfriend. Oh, wait, I do! In spite of said car. Wow, I must really be somethin’.
My little brother graduated from High School last Friday. Praise the Lord. To celebrate, we went to a very nice steak house, Elways. It belongs to John Elway. Apparently, he used to play professional sports. Golf or volleyball or something. Anywho, in the midst of our delightfully expensive meal, I needed to use the restroom. I do this often when I eat, typically because I drink an average of fifteen glasses of water during meal times. I often worry that someone will think that I am bulimic and that I am going to the restroom to throw up. Then I remember my vastly expanding waste line. Don’t think anyone is worried.
After I finished using the restroom, I went to the sink to wash my hands—don’t want to spread the squirrel/monkey plague that is sweeping over Denver. At the sink there were these three HUGE men. Well, huge compared to me. They were obviously very, very straight. They were discussing some sports writer that happened to be in the restaurant who misquoted some sports fact that seemed to greatly upset one of the men. They were planning on going to confront him. And they say gay men are drama. At least we only cause a ruckus over important things. I wonder if Britney Spear’s hair is growing back nicely? What if it grows back frizzy? Oh lord, I’m stressed.
As I politely eavesdropped and tried to be invisible, I picked up the soap bottle, which I thought was peculiar. It was in one of those glass bottles with the spout on top, like an olive oil dispenser. It was a cheerful shade of bright green. I tipped it over into my left hand. It poured out like water, much of it quickly wasted down the sink. I glanced over my shoulder, making sure the big straight men hadn’t noticed and were not on their way over to smear the queer. They were still ranting over the damned sports writer. I quickly rinsed my hands off, squeezed by the mammoths and made my way back over to the table.
A short while later, my mom and brother went to the restroom (mom to the women’s and my brother to the men’s). They came back at the same time, laughing. Upon inquiring into the nature of their shared hilarity, I was reminded that despite the nice clothes, good hair cut, and use of facial skin care products, I am still a redneck at the core. Apparently, they both had picked up the glass bottle containing the glistening emerald substance, then glanced at the stack of small plastic cups and realized what they held in their hands. They thought it was so funny that they had nearly washed their hands with mouth wash. Thank goodness that was avoided. That would have been devastatingly embarrassing. Or, so I imagine.