My Little Homophobe
I wish the following story reflected better on me. Well, I met a homophobe the other day. And I'm telling you this because I haven't had an interaction with an overt, unapologetic homophobe since I was 13 years old.* THAT is how sheltered my life is, you guys. I so rarely have to deal with in-my-face ignorance that I tend to think it doesn't really exist (except in presidential campaigns (zing!)). I mean, I know that all those "-isms" exist, but in my circumstance, I see them in subtle undertones. I see them in patronizing, throw away comments in passing. I'm used to dealing with the -isms that are apparent in the unsaid. You know, the covert prejudice that people can deny and then tell me I'm crazy and over-sensitive. Those are the interactions I'm used to. I'm not going to lie, I didn't know how to react to my homophobe. So now I'm going to recreate our conversation for you. I was making polite conversation with this guy at a