I’m doing this thing where I try to be more outgoing.  Believe it or not, this involves going out more.  The key to my success is saying “yes” to 90% of the invitations that come my way.  Sometimes this involves costume parties, such as the recent “I’m on a Boat” party that saw me wearing my dad’s Navy hat and 4-inch heels (clarification: the heels were mine, not my father’s) in public.  That was a great amount of fun, even if my feet were dead by the end of the night and nobody got any of my Major Dad jokes (nobody else had even heard of Major Dad.  Clearly these people did not grow up in my house).  And sometimes this involves more simple outings, such as meeting my brother for lunch (check), checking out the Electric Fetus with Sab (check), or going bowling with Jerry (oh boy).

The bowling happened yesterday, and it taught me an important lesson: always be clear on the details before you accept the invitation.  Perhaps Jerry’s presence should have tipped me off, or the two other gay men we brought in our carpool, but 3 gay men: 2 straight women (Kristin came too) is about the correct ratio for my social life.  It wasn’t until we got to the bowling alley and walked into a swarm of about 40 coiffed, exfoliated, skinny-jeaned men that I realized something was going on.  Because this was not just any bowling.  No.  This, my friends, was gay bowling.

Once I got over the initial shock followed by peals of hysterical laughter, I had a fabulous (swish!) time.  I even bowled my best ever, missing a turkey by one pin in the final frame.  And in retrospect, I don’t know why I expected anything else out of this evening.  It is, after all, my life; of course there’s going to be gay bowling, and of course I’m going to go to it by accident.  There’s just no fighting fate.

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