America. It is a land filled with crippling paranoia that causes us all to do extremely stupid things. From the Red Scare of the first half of the 20th century to the recent election, Americans continue to be influenced by the most absurd fears when making decisions. I am no exception except I claim to be Finnish.
[hair]However, my life is not filled with the terror of a communist homosexual destroying our government and I did not vote for a fundamentalist shrub simply to prevent the destruction of our moral fiber. No, my fears are much more banal. I am afraid of being humiliated by other gay men. This seems very logical to me. They know exactly what it would take to upset me to the point of having to declare sexual and social asylum among cheap magazines in the corner of my bed for weeks on end, and they are not afraid to use these weaknesses on gay men like myself.
Granted, I have never been humiliated in public to that extent (although I do a fine job of this given cheap liquor and a tiara). But this is no fluke, it is because I am intelligent and know that because having breasts larger than some females, I am a prime target. Here is my story of such a hate crime.
Once upon a time I had sex with someone. We had just met and the morning after I had to go to my job as a desk receptionist at the Brody Complex. Upon leaving work six hours later I walked past some very delightful students who did not fail to compliment me on my purple corduroy jacket and rainbow socks. “Hey faggot!” they exclaimed. “Hey cock sucker!” I did not want to seem vain so I did not respond, I don’t want my fans to get too attached. “Hey cock sucker!” I began to blush. “We saw you sucking cock on the internet last night!” Oh dear!
A logical response to this would have including a mentioning of “Craig, you are walking in Brody wearing pin-striped pants, move on as they are obviously being bigots with bad hair.” But no, being American and gay I turned to paranoia. I stopped, gave my blood a moment to flee my face, and scampered away. “What am I going to do! How could he have done this to me! And how could he have been so prompt as to put it on the internet so quickly, I mean he just seemed hung-over.” These thoughts filled my brain the entire walk to the library and granted it was a Sunday but I had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t go back to my room and face my friends as they were sure to have heard about it by then. I mean the entire Brody complex had already seen me fumbling around naked on the internet, certainly other homosexuals had caught a glimpse of it.
While smoking a cigarette with the ducks and trying to console myself with the fact that I would be forced to live among these birds for the rest of my life (I doubt I could pull a Paris Hilton and use this incident to further my career) the truth suddenly occurred to me. They really just were bigots with bad hair. There was no way that there was a video of me being bad in bed on the internet! First of all, he must have known that I would have him killed. Secondly, he didn’t seem to have a web-cam. And finally, who would want to watch it anyway? I felt better and instead of emptying my ATM account to purchase a plane ticket to Sri Lanka to join a rebel group, I simply spent half an hour online just to make sure.
The real question here is why was I so paranoid? (I’m crazy, and American). Is it my overpowering fear of rejection? (Yes). How can I get rid of it? (Move to Finland?) Will it simply go away when I lose twenty pounds and am able to mock people to their faces? (No.) Or should I supplement weight loss with a new drug addiction? (Not again, Craig) Do I need to be sedated?
I simply could not imagine myself walking into Olin Health Center saying I need a prescription of Valium because I have an innate fear of being secretly videotaped during sex. Although the real reason I can’t do this is because I’m deathly afraid of being judged by the extremely cute boy at the prescription counter.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *