Big Time Gay

Annie was smart, wore boots, had a pixie haircut and an incredibly infectious laugh and, sadly, was graduating from high school a whole year before me.

Before she left for college, we went out for pancakes one afternoon.  She told me that that she thought I was awesome and smart and talented and that the one thing she wanted for me was that I would believe those things about myself, too.

My senior year started, and Annie left for college.

One day, I was chilling in my history class after it ended while my teacher, Mr. D., and I chatted Monroe Doctrine (like-ya do when you’re 16).   This kid I despised who died in a fire years ago, which makes me sad for his family but not so sad for him because he was an a-hole, walked into the room and said, “How you like being BFFs with a lesbo? That mean you’re a lesbo, too?”

Told you.  A-hole.

“What the hell?!” I responded.

I noticed Mr.D, rumored to have an enormous poster of Marilyn Monroe in his living room, slink off to straighten James Buchanan’s photo on the wall.

“Yep, your gal pal is BIG time gay.”

He actually said “big time gay.” As opposed to “small time gay.”

Maybe “big time gay” means Ellen Degeneres and “small time gay” means the woman Lindsay Lohan dumped years ago.

“EWW, SHE IS NOT GAY.  Think I’d know she was gay.  Go F*@% off and die in a fire.”

Which, dammit, he did as I have already mentioned.

I called Annie immediately.

“Annie, GOD!  A-HoleKid called you a lesbian yesterday!!  I told him to f*@% off and there’s no WAY you’re a lesbian. I told him to go die in a fire.”

Which he did.  As mentioned previously. Dammit.

Silence and then, “Well. Um. I am.”

“Are what?”

“A lesbian”

“Ohhh.”

Just implied being a lesbian is bad to my dear friend, the newly officiated lesbian. Hard to backpedal from something like that when you’re 35.  Impossible when you’re 16.

So, of course, I recovered with a sincere, “CONGRATULATIONS, that’s UHMAAZING!!!”

Eighteen years later and I vividly recall saying this like I was waving pom poms.

She just laughed and then we talked for another hour or so about this new development.

Annie was amazing and we were friends and we loved each other. She had the best heart and who she would fall in love with or marry one day made no difference to me except that it was imperative that they knew that they were incredibly blessed to be with her.

Otherwise.  I had powers when it came to fire.  Clearly.

Friendship is friendship and friendship is love.

Big time gay, small time gay, or medium sized gay.

It really is that “big time” easy.

(Thanks for the inspiration, Vikki.)

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