Not that there's anything wrong with that

I have been in a real funk lately – just feeling depressed & to use the scientific term: yucky. But my oldest friend Hedge came up last night for a drunkover and what medicine that was – she’s the yuckiness antidote. We don’t see each other nearly enough, but when we do, we just get each other. We have a way of making each other feel better without the need to have deep meaningful conversations & cry-fests. We support each other in an unspoken sort of way. Like she says “Poop” and what she really means is “I’m here for you” and then I say “Boobs” and I mean “I love you, too.” And then we laugh our asses off. Last night was no exception.

Me: I think I told the boy’s friend’s mom I was gay

H: What?

Me (louder): I think I told the boy’s friend’s mom I was gay

H: I heard you, jackass, but what the hell are you talking about?

Me: Well, we were talking about being gay, and I said something that I think came out the wrong way so I think she thinks I was saying I am gay.

H: Did you correct yourself?

Me: Well, no, because I don’t care. Also, because I didn’t want to come off like it was an issue in any way.

H: Yeah, you don’t want to be all Seinfeld, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that”

Me: Exactly.

H: Well, how is it that you were talking about being gay anyway?

Me: We were talking about that weird homophobic facebook person.

H: Oh…her

Me: Yeah

H: You know what would be awesome? If her kid turned out to be gay.

Me: Not just gay, STAGE GAY.

H: JAZZ HANDS!

Me: By the way, right after I implied I was gay, I mentioned you were staying over tonight, so…

H: YES!

Me: Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

I love you, Hedge!