Let the insults continue

For a few years I have had this wonderful friend who happens to live in Washington DC. We met while he was working for a law firm in Pittsburgh, we seemed to enjoy each others company and sometimes we would have lunch together and laugh at the corporate types trying to impress with their sexy suits. Did I mention he is gay? And African American? Super handsome and fit? Former Marine?

A bit of background. For a long time I had some children living with me, apparently genetic spawn, but that has never been proven either in a court of law or on the Maury Show. I continue to wait for the results, but until then, I allow them to use my name and sometimes my American Express card. These "kids" thought they were funny, at first, in standard kid ways. Pouring salt on the table was hilarious. That sort of thing. Once they managed to learn the language, their attempts at "humor" became more pronounced and often times less funny, so we developed a definition of the word joke. A joke was something that made others laugh. Simple, right?

So, when one of these "kids" would walk into a room and do something kid-like that was supposed to be incredibly funny, like loudly fart, and I would sternly look at them-as fathers are required to do, and they would look at me like angels, following the kid script and say, "it's a joke." I could quickly recite the very definition of joke that we had all agreed upon, joke equals funny, loud fart, rarely funny.

So so it went.

Last week I was on my way to Washington DC to do a few things, one of which was to visit my gay African American friend and catch up on old times and stuff like that. I called from my car midway drive and we were talking and he was lamenting his life because his family continues to cold shoulder him in some ways because of his gayness and he feels some people at work remain intimidated by him because of his super macho African Americanness.

In retort I think I said something funny, like, "well, at least you can hide the fact that you are gay."

Yes, there was a lot of silence. And then he asked me what I meant by that. I back peddled as fast as anyone driving 75 miles an hour in a 55 zone can back peddle. I told him it was a joke. "I thought a joke was supposed to be funny," he said, and hung up.