There's Just No Pleasing Some People...



Saturday evening we were walking down Main Street in Ann Arbor, on our way to meet friends for dinner. As we walked down the street some probably drunken, obviously corpulent, definitely douchbaggy football fans yelled from their enormous Earth-destroying SUV, "You two should be holding hands!"

Well, that sounded like a good idea, so we did.

Apparently they didn't actually know what they wanted, because then they completely freaked out over this. It took them about 2 minutes to wrap their pea-brains around what was going on (football Saturday, traffic was slow and so were they) and then they started shouting "fag" at us, of course. (I avoid arguing with lunatics as often as is feasible, but for future reference, that's Dr. Fag to you.)

Well, if they didn't want us to hold hands in the first place, why did they suggest it? There's just no pleasing some people, particularly drunken football morons. One might have expected such behavior from the opposing team, but these were Michigan fans.

Anyway, this reminded me of a situation a few weeks ago at our favorite watering hole. We were there with a friend, waiting for the rest of the group to join us for our usual Friday evening libations & dinner. One of our friends is a hard-working family physician, and he'd had a long week of delivering babies, so he had his feet up, using Brian's knee as a footstool as we sat there chatting and enjoying our cocktails.

After a while, the maître d' came out and told us that someone had come in requesting a seat away from "those guys out there who are hanging all over each other" or something to that effect. Note: I find PDA creepy actually, and have never participated in any overt show of affection in public that I wouldn't be completely comfortable with my grandmother seeing. I am, in this regard, actually quite a prude.

Anyway, the cafe was nearly empty both inside and out, yet the maître d' told this person that everything was full. Heh. Then came out and told us about this jerk. Our friend promptly removed his feet from Brian's knee until the maître d' told him, "Oh, no you don't, put your feet back up there."

My message for the neanderthals in the truck or at the cafe: Welcome to Ann Arbor. This is our town, not yours. Walking into a cafe complaining about the gay clientele? Are you actually so stupid as to believe that is going to be effective when I would guess that at least 50% of the male employees in service industry jobs in this town are gay? Or do you think shouting "fag" out of your SUV is intimidating? I don't know which bog you crawled out of, but there are twice as many fierce fags in this town as their are douchbags like you, so I'd suggest you watch yourself. Listen, the lines at our restaurants are already long enough and the traffic on football Saturdays is already bad enough. So if you don't like it here, I'd suggest you go back to whatever backward backwater you crawled out of and free up some parking. Thanks, kitten.

Posted: Tue - September 22, 2009 at 10:29 AM        

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