Pages

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Welcome to San Francisco, Laurie, you're one of us

Yesterday, as I walked towards a group of 4 adult guys in the dog park, they all welcomed me, saying Hi, how's Annie's ear infection, how you feeling, etc.  I responded by answering "$270 bucks, and I don't want to talk about it".  And "In Idaho, her ear infection was just $80.00.  But I don't want to talk about it".  And "Oh, and she's spose to go back in 2 weeks for a follow-up, and I'm spose to get some special ear cleaner that I won't be able to afford, plus the charge for the follow-up visit, but I don't want to talk about it".  Sympathy was properly rendered and someone said:

"So.  How bout them Giants?"  Laughter.

The gentlemen then commenced to discuss Game 2 of the World Series between the San Francisco Giants and the Detroit Tigers.  Much opinion and happiness ensued.  I contributed:

"I didn't think it was that exciting".

Oh man.  Don't do that.  Four San Francisco Giant fans, four men against one girl.  I hung my head in shame, and pretended to skulk off the field.  Good hearted laughter again, and general teasing:

"That disease must be getting to her, what can we expect?"

"Plus her dog has an ear infection that she doesn't want to talk about so she was probably unable to pay attention to the game".

I asked what was so exciting about it, and they all started talking at once.  The umpire call at home base.  Something about a broken bat.  The score 2-0.  It was so close.  It was tense.  Oh.  I get it... it was a close score...  I added to the conversation by asking:

"Who was that cute little guy they interviewed in the dugout around the 7th inning, who was talking about his grandpa - when he told his grandpa he made it to the major league, and that the Giants had picked him up, his grandpa was horrified "oh anyone but the Giants, son".

None of the 4 guys saw that part.  Hmmm.



Okay, I said, so that call at home base was an excellent call, I gotta admit.

















Then they started discussing the physique of one of the bigger players, the one who had tried to catch a ball, and landed flat out on his stomach.  Blah blah blah and:

"That Sandoval's sure got a nice little butt on him,  yes?"

Me:  (inside my head "whhuuut?")

"Sure does, doesn't he?" with waggling eyebrows.  General agreement all around.

They they discussed the tight little uniforms, and a couple of the other players and how they filled out their... umm, packages, ummm uniforms.  Zito and Pill Pence are evidently big attractions for the gay guys.


I couldn't find one of their butts...

They made fun of the guys in the last game of the division play-off, how a group of them ran into a happy huddle of celebration, and were all jumping up and down in sync.  I shouldn't admit this, but I remember seeing it and thinking "how gay".  It was hilarious to me to hear these 4 gay guys making fun of them too. 

They looked to me for my contribution, and all I could say is I liked the guy who did the belly flop trying to catch a foul ball.
Belly flop guy

"Oh, you like the big guys, huh?"  And the debate was on - how much did the big guy weigh, and all I can say is that size matters.  Ahem.  When again they looked to me, I said:

"Ummm, what's with all the breaking bats, and is it just me or are they shorter than they used to be?"  Oh dear.  The laughter. 



I found myself caught all of a sudden in a vortex of intense love for San Francisco.  THIS is why I love this place.  I thought of my un-gay friend (was gay but decided he's not) in Idaho and the struggle he's gone thru, and I wondered if he'd grown up here, if his life would have been different.  I wanted him to come visit, just so he could feel the feeling in the air - the wavelength of acceptance that covers this city.  To be accepted the way you are has to be one of the greatest gifts you can give.

Even me - my hatred of dressing up and putting on make-up, or doing up my hair on a daily basis.  I can go out with the craziest of clothing on, and a hat on my head cause it's a bad hair day, and these 4 guys will tell me how cute I look, cause it's creative.  And I can take the compliment without an ounce of that weird sexual vibe that happens with straight guys, cause I'm not interested in no sexual vibe, thanks to my damn medications.  I've always gotten along better with guys, and so walking into this group without a single thought but "hey, my friends" is liberating to me.  I love it. 

~

No comments:

Post a Comment

Cheer or jeer me on...