by Andrew Martin
An interesting thing happened to me today. After waking, peeing, reading, and eating, I found this message on my Facebook: “Hey man I have really been going through some things which have been making me question somethings in my life I was wondering if you could keep a secret for me [sic].” Was I confused? Yes. Could I keep a secret? No, I’m writing an article about it. I have never met or talked to this person outside of Facebook (which deserves a discussion all its own about modern society and the bizarre notion of social networks). So what was my response? I said, “I guess, sure.” Then, with my permission, he told me, “I think I might be gay but I don’t know how to approach it.” And the room falls silent.
Honestly, the first thing I thought was, “does he think I’m gay? Is that why he’s asking me? Maybe I should re-read my status updates and check to see if they’re giving off the wrong impression.” I’m pretty confident I’m not gay. I even stopped and asked myself, “am I gay?” And while thinking about the answer I saw a picture of a hot girl on Facebook and spent the next several minutes looking for some summer bikini pictures. I don’t think I’m gay, but maybe he did. So I asked him if he thought I was gay (thus being a safe person to ask for advice regarding his budding homosexuality) and he said, “i just need some unbiased opinions and I don’t really know anybody to talk to this about so I just randomly chose you i hope your not offended [sic].” Well, obviously I wasn’t offended; it was now my duty to help this person, whose internal burdens have left them ostracized from the rest of society. I would help this peacock display his feathers and, someday hopefully, parade them proudly.
After some further discussion, he said, “I’m not 100% sure because I have never had a male relationship i just am so confused right now [sic].” I had the perfect advice. I said, and I quote, “You should do some gay stuff and if it freaks you out, then you’re probably not gay.” I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was pretty vague. What constitutes “gay-stuff?” I obviously wasn’t telling him to start watching Project Runway or become one of Lady Gaga’s little monsters*. I thought more along the lines of holding some guy’s hand. If that doesn’t feel bad, then kiss his Adam’s apple, smell his chest, use your neck more when you talk. If you’ve done those things and still find yourself wanting more, it’s probably safe to say that you’re gay and would like having gay sex. Just do it! Nobody cares if you’re gay anymore. And, if they do care, they’re probably from the south which renders their opinions invalid.
After a period of long silence I said, “Your silence is making it difficult to help you.” A few hours later he responded with an apology for his Facebook having been hacked. This being the case, I’m left with lingering questions.
1. Who still goes on other people’s Facebook to goof around? That’s so 2007…
2. Did it actually get hacked or did our conversation just get a little too real for him?
3. Would I actually be of any help to a closeted gay person? Answer: Probably. I’m a really helpful guy.
*Urban Dictionary definition of “little monster”: Someone who lives and breathes Lady Gaga. We make clothes out of random household materials, spend hours learning her dances, and cry about how much we love her when we’re drunk.