dinner with a side of confusion

Dinner tonight, me and Pepper, holding hands. Gay restaurant. Gay part of town. Gay waiter/owner. The conversation goes like this:

Waiter: Une table pour deux?

Me: Oui. Oh, and he’s from San Francisco, he doesn’t speak French.

Waiter: San Francisco, huh? (Gives Pepper the up-and-down.) I guess it’s so gay there that the look is even rubbing off on the heterosexuals.

Me: Sure. But, uh, neither of us are heterosexuals.

Waiter: Ahhh! Neither of you, eh? So you’re just, uh, good friends.

Me: (deadpan stare) No, we fuck.

Waiter: Oh, you do! Um… (Runs away.)

Yo-ho-ho, another fun night in the world of the queer gender-benders. It’s not that I feel a particularly strong inclination to yell “biiiisexuaaaaalll!!” from the rooftops, but ya know, if you’re going to grossly mis-presume and then give me the explicit opportunity to set the record, um, straight…

Funny how more people read us correctly at a poly friend’s baby shower (the child being the fruit of one or both of her male partners, I didn’t ask) we attended this afternoon in suburbia than at an underground restaurant in Gayville.

Mind you, I’m not griping. Understanding is nice, but if that’s unavailable, I’ll take confusion over hostility any day. 


6 thoughts on “dinner with a side of confusion

  1. Why is a waiter inquiring about that? Did they have specific sub-sections in the restaurant for like: Friends-with-benefits & ADD, Bi-curious nationalist transsexuals, Long-distance Queers with carpal-tunnel syndrome?
    I hate waiters who don’t mind their own business!

  2. In this particular case, the waiter’s rather a freak himself, as is the restaurant, as are we (thank you kitty), and I think he was just manifesting his particular brand of freaky friendliness. Possibly even because he recognized us as some sort of freakish kin. The invasiveness of the questions really didn’t bother me, honestly; it was simply his resulting confusion at the answers that I found amusing. I suppose my post might make it sound like I was peevish, when in fact I was more like entertained.

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