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Good morning, faggy darlings!

You know, Rajani is right.  You really can't go home.  You must go forward.

Lemme 'splain.

Yesterday, my flight was delayed for 6 hours.
Then it got cancelled.
They put me on a new flight.
Then that flight got delayed.
I arrived at 10:45 p.m.
Then they lost my luggage. 
 No biggie.  Lost luggage can be: 
       a) a huge hassle
       b) a headache, or
       c) an excuse to buy glamorous and elegant Wet 'N' Wild cosmetics in sophisticated colors at the nearest Rite-Aid.

But then the rental car didn't lock. 

In St. Louis, the second-most-likely American city in which to be murdered in 2009.
And I didn't discover that the car didn't lock until I was at my hotel.
Which was 30 miles away from where I rented it.
And then National didn't want to give me a different car.


And it was midnight and I was really hungry and really, really tired.

And that's how I found myself on the phone, alone, bawling my eyes out, to a very patient Indian woman named Rajani on the Roadside Assistance Helpline at 12:20 a.m.

Me: But I don't know why the car doesn't lock.  I didn't break the key fob-thingie - it just doesn't lock.  You can't push the locks down by hand or anything.  It's like they're electronically stuck.

Rajani: Miss, I'm terribly sorry, but it is not possible for one of our cars to be rented in that condition.  Our cars are especially checked.  Each and every time.

Me: But I just rented it.  And it doesn't lock.  I swear to God.  
                       (pause)

Rajani: Miss, all cars lock.  That is how they are manufactured.  

Me: This car doesn't.  Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm just so tired. I'm on a business trip, my flight got delayed, I just need to get to my hotel.  I'll take any car.  Any car you have, as long as it comes here.

Rajani: Miss, I do apologize.  I'm afraid there is nothing we can do.  You will have to bring the car back to the airport to get another car, if you are unhappy with your car.

Me: I'm not unhappy, the car doesn't work!  I just - I just - you're not - I just...wanna GO HOME! 

         (bursting into tears, copious sobbing)

Rajani: (finally) Miss, you are on a business trip?

Me: (sniffing miserably) Yes.

Rajani: (gently) Then, Miss, you cannot go home.  You must go forward.  Go to pick up your new rental car.  It is waiting for you.  Then you can rest. 

Me: (snuffling) Ok. (hiccup) Ok, that's what I'll do, then.  Thanks, Rajani.

Rajani:  You're welcome, Miss. I wish you a pleasant evening, and hope your days are better, beginning with tomorrow. 

Once I realized I was sobbing to a complete stranger like a menopausal divorced lady, I pulled myself together and turned the key in the ignition.  Calmed down somewhat.  Began the drive back to the airport.  I started replaying what Rajani had said.

You cannot go home.  You must go forward. 

Rajani was right!  She got me thinking. 
Thinking about queers.  
Shocker.

Once you figure out that you're gay and come out, your life is totally different.  You're still you, but you're better - You're Gay You.  And Gay You is way more fun!

Gay You gets to make out with girls.  Nice!

Gay You is now allowed to love shitty pop music without shame.  For as long as you live.  You're gay! It's your job!

Gay You gets to make scenes at Thanksgiving.

Gay You gets to refuse to be a bridesmaid in any more fucking weddings until it's legally possible for you to have bridesmaids.

Gay You has a potty mouth.

Gay You is invited to way more parties.  'Cause nothing is trendier than looking open-minded.

Gay You has lots more sex!  And you like it, this time around!

You may sometimes get twinges for the Old You - the socially-acceptable-You.  Things were easier then, weren't they?

When you come out, family issues can be horrible.  The friends you thought had your back may punk out on you. 
But fuck that! 

You cannot go home.  You must go forward.
We make the lives we think we deserve.