Skip to main content

Repartee with a homophobe about Brokeback Mountain

(I was on top form the whole weekend, I was looking at myself astounded by my giftful gabbing). After Brokeback Mountain we went into Cappuccino's and had a coffee before going home. They have this circular smoking area. (I don't smoke but I prefer the vibe in the smoking areas, all those other verkrampte, "Eeeee, the secondhand smoke is killing me" whiners can sit together in the boring section if they want to). The smoking room opens without a door onto the outside of the restaurant (this is important for the next bit of the story... that there is a cave-like element to this layout, although not the design of the place.)

But I didn't know that the movie was so long and I thought they were packing up the tables at, like, ten o'clock (it was closer to midnight). But no matter, the place where we were sitting was open and not-lock-upable) and the chairs built-in so I let them take the table and everything. But still the waiters hung around. Eventually the signal was becoming really clear so off we toodled.

And as I stepped out of the cave the waiter was half pushing me out the door, so I (wittily, laughingly) said to him, pointing to my butt, "Can you see this bootmark, I'm going, I'm going."

So the next morning after seeing Brokeback Mountain again, in I go to Cappuccino's again, and there is the same waiter again. So he asks me what I was doing there again (these waiters who talk too much!!). So I said I was seeing Brokeback Mountain again. He says (like I care) that he has a girlfriend and he is much more the Caveman type and that he doesn't want to see Brokeback Mountain.

So I waltz out saying that if he wants to stay in his verkrampte cave he can do so, where the air is musty and dank, and his mind can stay the same size that it is. He was walking close behind me, and as I stepped out of the cave I turned and said warningly, 'Uh, uh, careful now, don't step out, your mind could expand."
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: I have biracial hair by Zora Howard

See the performance on YouTube

I have bi-racial hair
Pantene Pro-V waves on the top
Easy to style, comb, rock-
Until-I encounter my naps,
I’m not talking about those-cute detangle with the spray naps.
I’m talking about those, slave naps, like,
No comb, brush, or man can handle the kind of naps I got- like,
No way you are touching my hair-naps like
Back 10 feet up, or we can dance naps
Those naps like-
DAMN!
I have bi-racial hair,
Those smooth and silk rafts hanging all through my mane,
Until you get to the back, and encounter the jungle, in which you can find Tarzan and Jane.
In the front you forget and relax in the pleasure,
Until you get to the back and remember pain
Baby hair slicked back with that good 4 dollar pomade,
That goes with roots and tangles,
Soaked with that same olive oil; mixed with that spaghetti sauce momade.
I have bi-racial hair,
Combs run freely through my fine breezy, just to the part, the most you can make,
Until it gets to the back and
Breaks.
I have bi-raci…

Sexual assault

If sexual assault always affects trust, then #AllWomen are walking around with PTSD and trust issues. I for one don't let THE MANY MANY TIMES I have been sexually assaulted and various other crimes (I do live in South Africa) be a guiding factor of my life. I have consciously chosen to trust on purpose. However, only insane people close their eyes while trusting. I don't shy away from trusting, I just make sure that I let people tell me who they are, and then I LISTEN and respond. 
You would be horrified, but I am not. I am NORMALIZED to this level of violence. It's natural. More sheltered people in my country have no clue what it's like to be a fully-engaged and person-on-the-street. You get used to it. Like children in war. It's the thing happening now and then that adds an anomalous punctuation to your life. You can't spend every day crying. The country is economically stuffed so you have to get on with making money, to eat. It makes you more articulate about…