Well, that settles it. I'm definitely not gay.
(My various ex-girlfriends go "well duh...")
Not that this was actually in question.
But just a few minutes ago, I saw concrete proof.
I was walking up 9th Avenue in my neighborhood, on my way to get some food from the Amish Market, return a DVD to the crappy little mom'n'pop video store that's barely managing to survive, and pick up a dish-drying rack (can't believe I've been living without one for so long) when I saw, walking the other way, my doppleganger. My gay doppleganger.
Apparently, I have a gay evil twin. I mean, picture me, only, you know, much gayer.
Wait... My evil twin is gay? Um... Fierce?
Okay, so how do I know he was gay? Well, his features were softer and more effeminate than mine, and he was kind of swishy as he walked. His big wild hair was styled in a purposeful way, instead of just fuckin' crazy like mine. His beard was neatly trimmed. His sunglasses were similar to mine only not the $5 St. Mark's kind -- his were expensive. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and these darling little shorts. Oh, and he was holding some other dude's hand as they walked along.
Other than those things, he really did look just like me.
So if there are two of us, and he is obviously the gay one, I guess I'm the straight one.
I wonder if he's off somewhere with his boyfriend going, "My evil twin is some disheveled hetero dude with no style? Gross!"
Sorry to disappoint, but you're not what I was expecting in an evil twin either, pal. Like looking into a swishy mirror.