Mondays. Traditionally a manic, depressing, utterly boring blue start to five agonizing days of a week. But not so long ago, a curly haired gaysi came to town. After having spent a week or so with her cousin in the suburbs sightseeing the city at day, playing with cats and dogs at night – the gaysi ventured out Monday evening to meet me in big bad Gotham. Naturally, shenanigans ensued. A little bit about Curly & I – we are ‘tweeps’ [ for the uninitiated – that’s twitter peeps ] Twitter occasionally makes ridiculous suggestions about people you should follow and if you happen to take it seriously, you end up meeting people like Curly. [ Yes, my forehead reads “stoopid”] Curly and I exchanged plentiful tweets and direct messages. Curly told me stories and secrets. I *facepalmed* and laughed at any misery I saw. It was the start of a beautiful friendship. When Curly said she was coming to Gotham for two weeks, it was decided. We would meet. Now, it gets better. No really! It does! So Curly staying with this hilarious cousin decides that she would come out to her. Based off prior evidence that Curly mentioned, I was secretly convinced in my head that the cousin [ Who shall henceforth be called Ms. Kaif] already knew of Curly’s rainbow tendencies.
Onto shenanigans. Monday evening I go to the station a tad early and wait for Curly’s train to arrive.
Facepalm #1: I knew how Curly looked. Curly didn’t have a clue how I looked.
So I padded in my large blue parka watch suspiciously for…err…curly haired people. And there she is!! A pink shining beacon in the horizon! [ Curly gives Hello Kitty a run for its money ] After exchanging hugs, we ventured out for a short walk to the bus stop in wet Gotham weather.
Facepalm #2 : Curly proceeds to tell me all about the past week and the many missed and awkward opportunities to tell Ms. Kaif about Curly liking girls.
I gape…gawk…look at Curly in disbelief. Curly looks at me with those big kitty eyes and widens them as if to say “Whaaaaat?” We get onto the bus for a long ride to the ethnic cool parts of Gotham that would serve as base for the nights hopping. Curly then proceeds to tell me that she happened to mention to Ms. Kaif that she has never met me before. A friend of Ms.Kaif also asked Curly about my last name.
Facepalm #3: Curly does not know my last name.
What would a normal person do ? Make one up! What does Curly do ? Blink. We eventually turn up in the hood for fun and food. I make Curly walk a few blocks to Hop #1: A tiny Lesbian wine bar. Which on that night of all nights played 90’s pop videos on its flat screens.
Facepalm #4: Walking the few blocks, Curly then proceeds to ask me, “Are you taking me to a brothel?” I, of course, said Yes.
Later I questioned Curly about her implicit trust in me. Apparently Curly trusted me oodles coz I was from the Gaysi Family. That right folks, people in this family can be trusted. Tell us all your secrets. After consuming pints of ales, stouts and a shot the lovely bartending lady clinked glasses with us over because Curly and I are friendly and Curly was from out of town, we hopped back out to the next stop. A pre-prohibition era cocktail bar. Friendly Colombian bartender makes us a delicious cocktail. I nip to the ladies room for a minute and come back only to find Curly hitting on him. Never mind that he is gay. I think she was saying nice things about his sexy accent.
Facepalm #5: Curly sometimes forgets shes Queer. And interested only in women. Its like shes 16 all over again.
We hop back out and venture to a friendly neighbourhood tavern to consume swedish spiced wine. A winter tradition. We even got a ginger bread cookie. Through this all, Curly regales me with precious and hilarious tales about her life, loves and …well, I was doing most of the laughing. Glogg consumed, Curly and I get hungry. Food it is! We venture to a revered Lesbian bar to grab some grub. And double pints of …I don’t even remember what. At this point, some of you may have received drunk tweets/texts from me.
Facepalm #6: It. Was. Curly. Not. Me.
However, on my good conscience only nice things about sexy tushys and ‘cute’ and ‘gorgeous’ were said. You ladies cannot complain. Then….Curly gets sleepy. Just when I was about to take Curly to Gay-Central in Gotham to drink vodka slushies and sing along to broadway musicals with tons of drunk people.
Facepalm #7: Curly ? Zzzzzz…..Zzzzzzzzzz….Zzz…mumbles something about jetlag.
We get back to my place. Curly jumps up and down on the trampoline air bed that I spread out for her and then in 2 seconds, is out cold. Next morning: Curly & I drink coffee. Curly tells me she is definitely going to tell Ms. Kaif. Around noon, Curly and I part ways and tentatively plan to meet later in the week with Ms. Kaif.
+3 Days: Curly has still not told cousin. Curly tells me Ms. Kaif & She are going out. I unfortunately cannot join them due to my last minute moronic engagements. I send a carefully phrased text message to Curly [ knowing she was using Ms. Kaif’s phone] that said “Have you told Ms. Kaif?”
The next day I speak to Curly because she leaves Gotham that afternoon back to the small village she comes from. Turns out Ms. Kaif knew!! And how!! [ more like Duh! You only need to see all the rainbow socks Curly has to realise one of two things – either Curly is aesthetically challenged. Or shes Queer] According to Curly, I outed her. Curly proceeds to clarify. So Ms. Kaif reads my message and then goes up to Curly and says to her “ Are you going to tell what your friend asked about which I already know?” After gentle urging, Curly proceeds to tell Ms. Kaif that she likes Rainbow people. Apparently, Ms. Kaif has known for 8 years. Even before Curly knew herself. Sigh. Family.
Next up: Curly’s version of events…. All lies I tell ya.
This was fun. More Gaysis should come to Gotham. Just leave the pink pyjamas with kitty cat prints back home when you do.