Tag Archive for co-workers

WARNING: Gay-Friendly When Drunk!

I’m pretty gay-friendly when sober, but if you are gay and happen to be around me when I am drunk, I would like to apologize in advance and forewarn you that this is what you are likely to experience:

  1. At some point, and without provocation, I will confide in you that I have a really lax attitude towards gay people. “No seriously,” I’ll assure, “I like gays.”
  2. “I just want you to know that I support your rights,” is probably going to come up at least once.
  3. I’ll joke that I support gay marriage, but that I’m staunchly against gay divorce. We’ll both laugh. Although you’ll be laughing from pity, and I’ll be laughing because I was sure it was a great joke.
  4. I will take you on a magic carpet ride of all of the gays who have appeared in my life throughout the years. I’ll unfurl a glorious rainbow tapestry and discuss:
    a) That poor guy in junior high school that we used to tease, and how badly I felt later in life to think about how we made him miserable, and will you, a gay person, please forgive me so I can stop feeling badly and stop overcompensating while drunk?
    b) The nice girl who advocated for gay people in high school in spite of how much flak she received.
    c) The math tutor relative who always showed up at Thanksgiving with his [cough cough] “roommate” Gary, and how it always seemed to me that Gary had been tricked into being homosexual. Does that ever happen?
    d) The first gay male co-worker I ever had and how it made me feel.
    e) The second gay co-worker who helped me to not feel weird around gay people.
    f) The first time I ever hugged a gay man.
    g) The co-worker everybody thought was gay because he had a tight body, never talked about girls and would go on tropical vacations with his “homeboys.”
    h) The weekly Carl’s Jr. dates I had with a gay man for about a month, completely by accident.
    i) The lesbian I dated.
    j) Tales of The Vamp: a former co-worker who systematically destroyed heterosexual men’s sexualities as sport, and had the photographs to prove it.
  5. After we meet all of my ghosts of homos past, I will spontaneously pause to remember the gayest person I have ever met and then inject it into our conversation. Maybe something like, “Boy, yeah, speaking of shrimp cocktails, who was the gayest person I’ve ever met? I met Rip Taylor once! Boy is HE gay or what? Do you ever see him in the clubs?”
  6. Now seems like a good time to tell you about the times in my life when gay guys flirted with me. I will probably say something very magnanimous like, “I was surprised at first, because it doesn’t happen too often, but I realized that it was very flattering! I mean, if a gay man is hitting on me, that’s pretty good, right? [awkward laughter]”
  7. I may even get into a drunken argument with a stranger to defend your gay honor, and I’ll do it very loudly so that you can hear that I was there for you.
      “Who the hell do you think you are calling him a name? You don’t call people that. We live in America, asshole. You will be accepting of him or you can leave America, got it jerk?!”

      “Hey relax, buddy, you misunderstood me. I said ‘Hey, look over there, it’s Bob Saget.’ Bob Saget is at the bar. Relax.”

      “I don’t care WHO is at the bar, you don’t call my friend names, okay? He is human and American — he’s Human-American and he has rights like his CIVIL RIGHTS!”

You know how excited you might get when you get a new black friend? Because maybe you haven’t had a black friend in a while and you’re really looking forward to it working out because everybody needs a black friend? And you want so much for the black person to accept you back, so you ham it up by trying to identify with the person and playing all of your black cards, as the case may be? You talk about The Jeffersons and Sanford and Son and maybe you afford yourself the liberty to talk a little more “street” than you ordinarily would. You might say “DY-NO-MITE!” a lot and even sing the Living Single theme song just to be entertaining. I have a similar level of excitement about gay people when I’m drunk. I assure you, my heart is in the right place, I do believe in the goodness of the gays and I just want to be friends. Anyway, I felt I should give you fair warning in case you are gay and in case you ever have the grave misfortune of being located anywhere in my vicinity when I am drunk.



[c] 2009 Russ of America


To help you relate to your black friends a little better.


All My Best

Today I wished a co-worker “All My Best” when what I really meant to wish her was “Most of My Best.” I can’t give her all of my best, can I? This isn’t sports, so I don’t have to give 100% or more. And giving ALL of your best to a woman is usually reserved for a relationship, isn’t it? I’m not dating her and I don’t even WANT to date her – she’s mean! And even if I did want to date her I don’t think it would be a good idea to give a woman ALL of my best under ANY circumstances, and especially not this soon in our acquaintanceship.


Maybe over the course of thirty years it’s okay to give a woman ALL of your best but over thirty years you still probably only want to give her MOST of your best. That’s how you keep surprising her, right? By giving MOST, but not ALL, of your best?

“Hey baby, I brought in MOST of the groceries in for you.”
“Oh Russ, that’s so sweet! I’m glad you left some in the car because now it feels like I’m making a contribution to the household.”


Even by giving MOST of your best you’re probably setting yourself up to disappoint her on a regular basis. For example, if you were to do your housework with MOST of your best effort, she’s going to expect you to do MOST of your best housework effort every Saturday. Even if it’s your Shabbat! So maybe what I meant to say to her was that I wish her “Some Of My Best” because I think that’s achievable and reasonable.


“Hey baby, even though it’s Saturday morning and you know I never do anything before 1:30 on Saturday because it’s my Shabbat, I wanted you to know that I put my beer cans in the recycling bin and I cleaned my piss off of the toilet seat.”
“Oh Russ, that’s so sweet! I know how you like to enjoy your Shabbat. Thank you for making that effort.”


The point is that I may not give you ALL of my best, or even MOST of my best, but if I like you, you can definitely have a few scraps of SOME of my best. I hope you enjoy them. The rest of my best I save for myself. You can live with that, right?


Prone to over-analyze, I thought some more about this strange woman who got All My Best and I am confident that I don’t like her. She doesn’t deserve All My Best, Most of My Best or even Some Of My Best. She has earned the coveted spot in life where next time she will receive Absolutely None Of My Best, and that comes with extra piss on the toilet seat.



[c] 2008 Russ of America