Being gay is exhausting nowadays. I need a break! I have decided to live one completely heterosexual day to shake off all the gay pressure that I have been under lately. Here is a blow-by-blow -- oops, wrong expression! Here is a log of my day of ardent heterosexuality:
8 a.m.: My first stop is, of course, Chick-fil-A! Luckily, it is not Sunday, so Chick-fil-A is open. It has been quite some time since I last entered these doors, so I enthusiastically order myself up a breakfast banquet of Spicy Chicken Biscuit and a Sausage Breakfast Burrito, all with extra Polynesian sauce. Extra, all right -- extra delicious! Yum! While I wait for my order to be filled, I get down on my knees and thank the Lord for the fast-food feast I am about to receive. ("When in Rome....")
9 a.m.: I have filled my stomach, so now it is time to fill up my gas tank. I drive my car over to the Exxon station and pump my car full of ExxonMobil gasoline. I splurge and get the most expensive grade.
9:15 a.m.: I notice that my car's passenger-side brake light is out, so I pop over to AutoZone. Feeling particularly heterosexual, I "get in the zone" and replace the brake light myself. I get some grease on my shirt, but I do not care! I feel so butch!
10:45 a.m.: Time for a little shopping. If I am to look the part, I need some new clothes, something a little less flamboyant, perhaps something flannel. I stop by Urban Outfitters and look around. I do not see anything I like, but I decide to buy a plain white shirt anyway, just to support the business (and any conservative politicians they are promoting these days).
12 p.m.: Lunch time! It is a tough decision. I would gladly go back to Chick-fil-A, but I want to be a good straight and diversify as much as I can. At first I think I might want some stuffed cheesy bread and a Wisconsin 6 Cheese Pizza from Domino's, but I am alone, and that seems gluttonous, so I decide to go to Cracker Barrel Old Country Store and Restaurant instead. I like the sound of "old country" because it feels like a traditional value, somehow. I peruse the menu. The Fancy Fixins menu is appealing, but "fancy" sounds too gay. Perhaps I should order some Wholesome Fixins instead? In the end I go for the Chicken n' Dumplins. As I eat I wonder why straight people drop the letter "g" from the end of their words?
2 p.m.: All that food took a long time to eat, so I skip going to the gym. This seems appropriate. I sit doing nothing for a while, enjoying my heterosexual privilege.
3 p.m.: I step into a Walmart store and engage in a lengthy talk with the Walmart greeter. I discover that she is more than just a "welcome" lady: She is an engaging conversationalist as well. After hearing about her kids' ballet lessons and soccer games, I grab a shopping basket and start walking through the aisles. The place is enormous! I am able to purchase such disparate items as dental floss, a leather recliner, and a Halloween pirate costume. "Save Money, Live Better" is my new mantra, and I do not feel the least bit guilty that 17 mom-and-pop shops have closed in the area during the last year.
4 p.m.: I drive over to the Salvation Army to donate some old clothes that might be useful to needy heterosexual families. I hope that not only will my clothes keep some family warm but the money raised will help the Salvation Army continue their heterosexual agenda.
5 p.m.: I want to have a traditional dinner at home with my nuclear family, but I do not have a nuclear family. I decide to borrow one. I pick up my "son" from his Boy Scout troop, my "daughter" from ballet class (coincidentally, the same as the Walmart greeter's daughter -- small world!). My "wife" is already at home, as she has spent the day cleaning the house.
6 p.m.: My "family" sits down to a wonderful meal of Barilla pasta products.
7:30 p.m.: The old ball-and-chain cleans up, putting leftovers in our Tupperware food storage containers.
8 p.m.: We tuck the "kids" into bed. My "wife" retires to the living room to catch up on her knitting.
8:30 p.m.: I settle down in the den, sitting on my new Walmart leather recliner. I watch a few episodes of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo and Duck Dynasty, switch to Fox News, and finally settle on an enlightening episode of the 700 Club. As I listen to Pat Robertson's wisdom, I smoke a cigar and sip some Russian vodka.
10:30 p.m.: I go to bed at a reasonable time. I will sleep well tonight knowing that I spent the day supporting companies that promote heterosexuality. Perhaps a full day spent with all these companies that support traditional families will change me? I will just have to wait until morning to find out if any of it has rubbed off. More than likely, I will wake up gay. But I close my eyes satisfied that, at least for a day, I have lived a "normal" life.