Becoming

Girl meets boy. Boy plays sports. Girl suddenly chooses boy to be her future husband and father of her children. Boy is oblivious to girl's devious planning. Girl is shocked to see boy getting a manicure the next day. Boy rents both "Fight Club" and "Steel Magnolias" for their movie night. Girl is confused. Girl calls her gay friend for help.

Sound familiar? It happens all the time. A girl doesn't know if the guy she likes is gay because he exhibits ambiguous behavior such as extensive knowledge of fashion designers and a fondness for breasts, so she calls her wittiest gay friend to sniff him out.

If you've ever seen the movie "Highlander," then you can sort of imagine what it's like when one gay person comes in contact with another gay person. They call it the highlander buzz. Two immortals sense each other and they hear this sound and feel the presence of one another. How can I describe the feeling I get when I see another gay person? It's like everyone has an aura and only gay folks can see it. I see the aura and I hear Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" in the air.

A lot of my heterosexual gal pals always ask me to meet some guy in their life so I can gauge whether he's a big flaming queer or a poontang-nuzzling straight boy. They always call me whenever they have a gay problem. I'm like Triple A, but more like triple GAAAY. I once met one of my friend's potential boyfriends in hopes of setting the record "straight," so to speak. Her newest love interest had precision-sculpted eyebrows, a Lacoste shirt with the collar flipped up, eighty four girls on his myspace friend list, and a pair of those Willy Wonka goggle sunglasses.

At that point, I still wasn't convinced. A lot of people would be quick to say that he loves to tongue-dart the stink tubes, but my "effemi-sensors" are a little more precise. Remember playing that computer game "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" You can't apprehend a suspect without a warrant. In this case, I needed hard proof. The only way to get that was to caress his midsection and invite him to have drinks. Yes, it worked and yes, the boy was gay. He seemed to respond very well to tactile contact, which is typical of a lot of latent homosexuals. It's like there's another person inside of them that craves the touch of a lithe young man who gives good head.

I don't see much of my friend anymore. The word on the street is that she fell into a depressed state when she realized that yet another one of the men she'd slept with turned out to be gay. A lot of people called her paranoid, but the gay community refers to women like her as "Messiah." Now if I can just get her to sleep with Jake Gyllenhaal, the natural order of the world will be restored.