men in tights

I spent my summer galavanting across Europe, tanning at the pool, and going to concerts and suddenly, as the engine throbbed beneath my seat, I could feel it all sliding away from me. Not only did the events bare such deep memories in my head but more importantly, the people that were there with me; the endless perverse wit tossed across the table and the laughter by the pool side had faded with the 30,000 feet that found it's way between me and my so called happiness. With being one of the last of my friends to leave for college I felt that there was nothing left to do; ready or not, I was going. Little did I know, the next week would keep me busy enough to evade the unhappiness lodged in the back of my mind.

Over the summer I had signed up for community service; namely, because I wanted to move in early and to meet new people. However, I was able to choose a particular issue area in the city of Boston that I would like to address and among a list consisting of groups such as hunger, environment, housing and homelessness, and AIDS Awareness, etc.,  I picked Gender Focus. Gender Focus aimed to educate the upcoming freshman on domestic abuse, eating disorders, and the GLBT community (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered). Despite the need of awareness in some of these issues I was more concerned with accomplishing my goals in the imminent future. 

1. make good grades

2. get involved

3. be outgoing

4. form my gay posse

I found that my head was already deep in a bowl of homo when I stepped into the group and I scanned the crowd of possible contestants. To my delight the only male in our circle sporting a tight black shirt and gelled hair, Brian, let out a very cheerful, "Hi! What's your name!?!" Jackpot. We played the overused name games and I became friends with the most normal looking brown haired girl I could find. As the week progressed we visited multiple sites including a house for GLBT teens, an eating disorder home, and a women's center for homeless women as well as women who are discovering their sexuality but are stuck in a loveless marriage. Because of privacy issues and a lack of a degree in psychology we stuck to manual labor at the sites. We painted, scrubbed, and polished to Brian's renditions of every Broadway musical he had ever seen. While we were cleaning out a shed in preparation for a yard sale I perused a box of gay erotica when I made a shocking discovery. Turns out, brown haired bitch stole my gay. All I wanted to do was go shopping and whisper some naughty innuendo but no, I turn around and they're doing the salsa behind my back and grabbing the ta-ta's. I sighed to myself but reasoned that Brian was too popular for my taste anyway. I decided the best approach would be to find the desperate and lonely, right out of the closet, and introduce them to the BU wild. Indeed, BU's male population has a large majority of gay freshies in need of a dear fag hag and because of the lack of men without tight pants I will take it upon myself to fulfill this role. On that note, I will leave you with an excerpt from the Gender Focus' collaborative cheer:

"Oh hi! (Oh hi!)

I'm super Bi! (I"m super Bi!)

I like girls (I like girls)

and sometimes

I like guys!

and I work (where do you work?)

in the fashion industry

and one day (one day)

my boss came up to me 

and said, "hey Joe!  I'm gay, don't you know?"

and I said, " That's fierce! I always knew dear!"

hello (hello)

I'm a ho (I'm a ho)

I get paid to have sex 

and I make a lot of dough

and i work (where do you work)

on the streets of the city

and one day (one day)

my boss came up to me and said "Hey Ho! Get on the flo'!"

and I said, "Hell no! That i won't blow!"

There are three more verses so I'll just let your imagination flow. Honestly, I've absorbed enough vulgarity in the last week that the words dildo and blow job have no perverse meaning; it's simply normal conversation. After 4 days of chatting about sexual abuse, gay porn, and anorexia I was ready to break out of this gender focused bubble; that's not to say that it wasn't enlightening but if I hear another paragraph of Brian reading from the "Joys of Gay Sex" my libido may dissolve entirely. Thankfully, I have not given up all hope of finding a heterosexual male and I'm relatively happy except for a few minor spouts of loneliness; I've even become friends with brown-haired girl who happens to be quite nice. While the resounding culture shock is taking it's toll I'm staying positive and trying to get involved. I've recently signed up for the school newspaper but to apply I have to send in 3 samples of a potential column that tie into some sort of theme. Any ideas from the peanut gallery?