Sometimes being gay and Asian means a lot of nights watching white boys neck each other.
Went to a small get-together of gay guys tonight, most of whom I did not know. Of the two that were my friends, one was on a date and brought the day's catch with him.
As if the cards weren't already stacked against me, I came down with strep throat earlier this week and my doctor gave me a ten-day antibiotic regimen. That means I couldn't drink and had to sit out an hour-long game of Kings.
And then they played Spin-the-Bottle. Spin-the-fucking-bottle. Of all the things they could have done, they chose a blow-back from middle school that I thought people only played in sorority movies - and the most painfully exclusive, ostracizing game anyone at a party can hope to be left out of.
"Are you playing?" one of them asked.
"Sorry, I'm sick," I said, thinking I wouldn't want to kiss any of them anyways. (Not entirely true, but I was full of righteous indignation.)
"Okay, the Asian's not playing," said the guy holding the bottle.
Excuse me? The nerve of that guy - I don't care if he didn't mean anything by it; you don't go referring to people by their races in earshot - that's just rude.
I spent the next hour watching these guys go from cheek to lips to open mouth and tongue, and then eventually to ass-grabbing and against-the-wall. Mike, my friend with the date, kept encouraging me to play, but there was no way I'd kiss someone with a throat infection this bad. That is common courtesy, something at least one of these guys didn't seem to understand.
I ended up leaving early; one friend, the one I'd driven there, decided to crash, and Mike was leaving with his Catch . I can hear the snide remarks already: as soon as the door closed shut, the bottle-holder says, "I'm glad that Asian was sick and didn't play," as everyone nods approvingly.
When did Spot the Minority become a party game?