This morning, a thin veil of snow fell gently in the Northeast and Midwest. While everyone was enjoying the splendor and beauty that signals a beautiful winter season, I was reminded that- SHIT! It’s already the fucking holiday season. Pack up the cobwebs and pull out the tinsel, because we are heading into family-palooza.
To help you navigate awkward family functions, this time last year I wrote a blog post called, “A Straight Gal’s Guide to Lesbians.” It is an informative and helpful guide about the myriad of misconceptions about the LGBTQ community. In the last year, I’ve hit some roadbumps on the path to enlightenment concerning some of my favorite breeders (yes, I know you hate that word, and no I won’t stop using it.) There is so much knowledge and humor and insight and cat pictures on the internet, I thought I would sum up some of the most bizarre questions and comments you will receive as part of the LGBTQ community and share some optimal responses so that you can maintain healthy relationships with ignorant jerks (A.K.A. your family). And let me tell you… these questions get SO much more awkward when the conversation is started over turkey, stuffing, and a boatload of merlot. To help navigate through these tricky arenas, I have posted cat pictures that coincide with the answers so you can understand them, even if you aren’t in the mood for reading.
First of all, if you are recently out of the closet, huzzah! Good for you. Now, get ready to deal with this shit for the rest of your life. Your first holiday will be the toughest. It’s not all bad… you get to have sex with whoever you want. So that’s cool. (Warning: if you bring home an asshole of a life partner, your family has every right to give you shit. That has nothing to do with being gay… you just need to find someone who treats you better and doesn’t make KKK jokes at the dinner table.) Whether these questions come from an airline stewardess or your crazy Christian Aunt, be prepped for optimal responses so that you aren’t caught with your pants down and a dick in your mouth this holiday season.
Comment #1: “I totally think gays should TOTALLY be allowed to get married.”
The proper response: “Wow, thanks, yea, equality is cool. Could you pass the wine?”
The response I would most likely give: “Well, that’s dynamite that you think so. But frankly, with all the complications between federal and state benefits, even if I could get married in this state, I probably wouldn’t until the kinks in the system are worked out. And if it was beneficial for my taxes. But I guess it would be cool to have the option. GObama! How’s your uterus feeling? Oh, is that too personal? Sorry. I thought we were on the same level.”
Comment #2: “Why are there all those letters? What do they even stand for?”
The proper response: Google it, dumbass.
The response I have given in the past and will continue to give: “Well, the official acronym is LGBTQIA. But I’m sure you don’t have time for all those pesky letters. You see, our community fought really hard for all those letters to be included, especially the T. T stands for transgender. NOT TRANNY. You relax and have another cocktail, we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself with too much ‘out of the box crazy liberal thinking.’ LGBTQ isn’t that hard. Q is for Queer. And C is for- well, I’m sure you can figure that one out.”
Comment #3: Is your girlfriend a man or a woman?
The proper response: You answered your own question.
My response: Sorry I spilled my red wine on your winter white dress. I was distracted by how incredibly rude you were.
Comment #4: I might be bi. Where can I meet people who would be into me?
The improper response: A gay bar. I’m not the bi whisperer. Ask Jeeves.
My response: It’s 2013. As long as you go to a bar with some windows, a low number of ‘Nam vets, and there’s no confederate flag bumper stickers in sight, you should be okay. Gays are like VISA, we are everywhere you want to be. JUST LOOK AROUND.
The proper response: “Gross.”
My response: “Fucking gross.”
These questions will come up inevitably, and if your family is anything like mine, you may also enjoy some pro-Catholic anti-abortion pamphlets set on your placemats at the dinner table. (LUCKY ME.) Just handle the events with grace, and use all that pent up energy on some crazy gay sex when you get home. Remember… it’s tacky to fuck at your mom’s house. Fuck in the bathroom at a gay bar. Come on. Keep it a little classy. Hang in there, and keep these tips close by. The traumatic events of today are nothing compared to the shitty things that people will ask you when you plan your gay wedding. Like… “Who’s the dude in your relationship?” NO ONE. WE ARE TWO GIRLS. Ya weirdo.