The Unswung Bat

Saturday, March 25, 2006
Of Steak and Lesbians

Oh good Christ, listen to this. A party last night, that I didn't really have much time to go to but it was Rachelle's Awesometh birthday, plus it's the only social thing I've done all week. Right at the end, while I'm putting on my shoes, folk are disparaging the oddly popular idea that lesbians are automatically vegetarian, by some sort of dietary cause and effect.

So my clever joke, my attempted ironic stab at saying "hold on, you mean a woman can be one but not the other?" was to suggest that I'd always had the impression lesbianism was a purely nutritional phenomenon, much like a B12 imbalance or an iron deficiency. Get it? Like anemia! Ha-ha! How funny. There's a place for but-I-thought-the-earth-was flat jokes in most conversations, right? And this one didn't strike me as especially dumb.

What I actually said, though, was something like "but I thought that was why they were lesbians, you know, like from a lack of meat in the diet." I was two steps out the door before what I had said clicked in my head, and by "clicked," I mean shouted Wait! No!! FUCK!! With five exclamation points and bold caps lock and everything, as I realized that failing to indicate what exactly was meant by "lack of meat in the diet" left the statement open to the interpretation that I am in fact a jackass, à la "yeah, I'll fix your sink . . . " Honestly, the ability to screen words for such obvious disasters is just one more reason writing—or simply being quiet—is often far superior to talking.

Could I have done worse if the joke had been:

You: Why did the chicken cross the road?
Me: N-gger.

Probably not. In my defence over not being able to keep my words straight, I've got way too much work to do, I'm perpetually tired, and darn you all to heck.

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