a wonderful pre-plague memory which I just recalled because I used the same justification again, while talking with my dumbass right-leaning holier than thou coworkers:
was forced to talk with a horribly passive aggressive catholic family of a friend as I was helping her move out. you know the type – not outright hostile, but always making snide remarks under the pretence of polite conversation or curiosity.
I was waiting for her and they were watching TV, and some nonsense came up about the youth’s access to media which can “corrupt them”. you know, help them realise other sexualities exist and all that modern horror.
“it all starts somewhere, yes” the woman said, her aunt I think, “they are born normal but then they look at certain things too much and their brains get skewed”
they all, of course, knew that my friend wasn’t straight. reason for her moving out, after all. but I think that because of the fact that I wasn’t saying anything and compared to my friend looked rather… traditional, they assumed I must be, you know, “normal”.
“when we were kids, we spent time outside or in a church, and everyone was normal. but I do guess it has to start somewhere, especially with all that internet”
a side eye look at me, of course, to see if I agree. and I just sighed, like old people do, and replied:
“it all does start somewhere. I remember what turned me gay.”
a silence, nervous sound of stirring well-stirred cold tea. but, well, point to them, I still did agree with their idea, no? on the wrong side of the barricade but I still did agree that I was turned gay by something. probably some filthy perverted movie on late night TV.
they wait. they really did wait for me to go on.
so I just sighed again, heartbroken over the fact that I was turned gay against my will. a girl from a good home!
and I explained that my unholy condition was born out of one thing and one thing only: long hours of deep contemplation of the unbelievably beautiful – and numerous – statues of the Virgin Mary in our local church.
oh how quiet it got. how peaceful.
they changed the channel immediately and became wildly invested in whatever was happening on the screen. the well-stirred tea won another extra stir.
and then: “god bless!” we cheerfully bid them farewell.
I use it each and every time this subject pops up now. makes for great conversation or very pleasant silence.
