Does He Even Know He’s Gay?
So, there’s this guy I know. Let’s call him Billy. Why Billy, you ask? Well, that’s in honor of Stan Marsh’s grandpa on South Park who calls everyone Billy. So, Billy it is.
In all seriousness, Billy fits all the typical gay stereotypes. He’s got the poofy, 80s feathered hair that’s always combed just so. He even carries a comb with him, just in case it, somehow, gets messed up. He’s got the voice. It’s very difficult to listen to. Even on a girl his voice would be too girly.
His handshake is limper than a wet noodle. When he shakes your hand, he always has this, “I’m secretly a creepy guy” look on his face. The creepy guy thing doesn’t have anything to do with being gay but it’s, well, it’s downright creepy.
He’s also got the 1950s school cardigan. No one has worn them in 50 years, but, there he is, strutting around like cardigans are the coolest piece of clothing on the planet. And, when I say strut, I mean he’s watched Harvey Fierstein walk around too much.
Unfortunately, in this town, being gay is worse than being a murderer. I try not to think about it, but, every time I see Billy, I think how unfortunate he is that we are in the 21st century and he still has to lie about who he is. It’s really a shame too. I’m sure Billy does know that he’s gay, but, unless he moves from this town, he’s never going to admit it.
