You hear people half jokingly talking about “gaydar” from time to time. That seemingly uncanny ability at times for gay men to be able to detect whether someone else, usually closeted, is gay or not. Sometimes it’s unerringly accurate and sometimes it’s just a bit of wishful thinking. As you get older, and younger generations get bolder, it certainly seems to get more accurate though.
But there’s another kind of gaydar though – the one where you can tell within just a few seconds whether someone is homophobic. There’s a particularly tightening of their facial features when they realise you’re gay – or, in the case of our taxi driver last night, when they know that they’ve just been asked to drive gay passengers to a gay pub.
It’s like, instead of a suicide pill in a tooth, they’ve got a glue pill in their butt, and they’ve just done that slightly constipated sphincter clench to break the glue and seal their arse up to prevent homosexual violation.
Years ago, I would have got offended. These days, the tide has turned and the bigots are in a rapidly shrinking minority, so I can actually feel good about myself watching them squirm while they’re undoubtedly thinking about all the disgusting things I get up to. Yet somehow, they’re able to visualise it all in perfect clarity. Their discomfort is my joy.
So as our uptight homophobic taxi driver was studiously avoiding any form of interaction with us last night and he could feel the glue from his sphincter protection pill seep into his crack and seal him shut for a week, I was sitting in the back of the taxi thinking, “Yeah take that fare, bitch. You don’t like me but you need my money, bitch.”
And I got the giggles.
3 seconds. It doesn’t take long.