I'm not gay, never have been, and I don't intend on making that switch anytime soon. I'm a happily married 25 year old guy who likes to get wild, party, and fool around with his wife. That being said, I will be the first to admit there are a few things I do/did that might make people question my degree of hetero.
As I have outlined already, I do a pretty detailed ritual every Saturday morning to make good with the spirits of college football before my beloved Georgia Bulldogs take the field. I figured a little self-deprecation the week before our first SEC opponent wouldn't do anything but help my karma to keep the Dawgs undefeated and if nothing else leave a steaming mound of entertainment for you to step in.
So each day I'm gonna try my best to think of something I do that people might mistakenly think I'm gay for doing...not that there's anything wrong with that.
#1. When I was in college, me and a buddy would have girly drink nights.
WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!!! Before you go assuming we'd go downing Cosmos at Swingin' Richards let me explain this. In all actuality you may discover I was doing something WAY more masculine in principle.
As an undergrad, I lived in a fraternity house for a year. After a few weekends the first semester, we discovered we were actually living in an alcohol soaked GOLDMINE. Yeah it sucked when it was finals and everyone wanted to drink at the bar with music blaring until 2:00am, but here is what would happen on most Friday nights. Around 10pm all the girls would begin to show up with their bottles of Smirnoff Ice, Arbor Mist, and Bartles & James wine coolers. They would immediately try to hide it behind chairs, couches, anywhere but the fridge (because the fridge was where moochers would pull their nightly fare). The girls would come in, drink 2 bottles out of a 4 or 6 pack, be totally hammered and stumble back up to their dorms forgetting and/or not caring about where they left the remainder of their booze.
The following morning my buddy and I would get up before the pledges came to clean the house. We'd treasure hunt and pool together all the onesies and twosies we could find from out of the hiding places and stick them in the mini fridge I had in my room. This would usually provide us with enough alcohol to make one really wild night during the week. Did it usually give a sugar high before an actual buzz? You bet. But while you went around to classrooms emptying trashcans for that craptacular $150/month workstudy check you were so proud of, me and Josh were drinking your trashy girlfriend's pomegranate martinis she left at the house last Friday. So perhaps you should have taken that self-righteous tampon out of your pooper and come over to the house and drank a Lynchburg Lemonade while listening to The Wall with us instead of calling us a couple of homos while you pushed that stupid wheelbarrow trashcan around campus. Just a thought.
So in my opinion, the fact I chose free booze (no matter the drink) and rocking out with friends over working my tail off so I could afford a 2 year old 24 pack of warm Natty Lite from the Golden Gallon down the street, TOTALLY makes it more manly than it first appears. Agreed?
Good. So now that we are all in congruence of what constitutes masculinity, I'm looking for a couple of opening night seats to Wicked at the Fox Theatre October 8th. Shoot me a comment if you can help me out.