Gay and in San Francisco? For me, it’s like Sex and the City minus the sex.
In one of my favorite episodes of the popular HBO television series, Miranda tells Carrie’s then-boyfriend Berger that she invited her date upstairs and he politely declined the offer.
Berger explains that ‘he’s just not that into you.’ That, if a guy is interested — HE’LL CALL YOU. There are no mix signals, no excuses. If he’s into you — he’ll show it.
So there I was on another date. It was going so well this time!
He was everything I secretly look for in a guy: Mysterious, commanding and he looked at me like he was about to kill.
But three drinks into the evening, he asked a bizarre question:
“What are your thoughts on Brexit?”
“I avoid the news these days, it’s so depressing,” I replied, dodging the question in an attempt to talk about something more fascinating like traveling or San Francisco. “So what’s the latest coolest thing you’ve explored in San Francisco?”
“You don’t read the news?”
“I read the news,” I said. “I, well, I don’t have a strong opinion on this subject. If Brexit happens it may be good for the United States. Everyone believes our primary strength comes from our military. I believe our strengthen comes from the dollar. It’s how global trade must use our currency. So if anything undermines our biggest competitor - the Euro - it may be good for the United States.”
“You’re in favor of American supremacy?”
“The United States isn’t perfect, but at least we try to be something for everyone. We promote freedom and equality across the globe,” I said, drunkenly.
“But England uses the British Pound.”
“You’re right. But if one nation can leave the European Union, any nation can leave, undermining the entire currency block. Most Americans believe all white people are the same, but the variety of European cultures are quite different and the EU is more fragile than it appears because of the differences.”
FUCK.
FUCK.
FUCK.
I brought race into the discussion.
These days it’s not cool to be white in America without running through a litany of grievances or acknowledging your life as a white male is “privileged”. How the conversation transpired was so unbelievable.
“Do you think Spanish people are white?” He asked.
Definitely.
Not.
Sleeping.
With.
Him.
Tonight.
In the end, it was the pasty white boy paying for him, showing interest in him, wanting to go home with him. He was so caught in identity politics and the daily cycle of news to realize people are more complex than those screaming headlines.
Nothing I said was shameful:
“Not all white people are the same.”
“Not all Europeans are the same.”
“We’re all complex multifaceted humans.”
“Some are privileged, while others struggle, but most people working, regardless of skin color, have not seen their income rise with inflation since the 80s.”
But if he was into it, he’d show it.
