Sweet Tooth by Tim Anderson

Author:Tim Anderson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Lgbt, Personal Memoirs
ISBN: 9781477818077
Publisher: Amazon Publishing
Published: 2014-03-10T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

Coming out to your first friend—especially if she’s a nice young lady with no gaydar—is a monumental occasion, so you should definitely do it at a playground after dark, just the two of you. That way it’s not in any way weird or awkward.

I had graduated from high school, and in a few short months I would be leaving Raleigh for Greensboro, where I would attend Guilford College and, hopefully, allow myself to be seduced by every male professor in the Classics Department, assuming it had one. (I hadn’t checked.) Once I left Raleigh I was planning on kicking down those closet doors with my gay cowboy boots (with the fringe) and venture out into the wild and hopefully very blue yonder. But before I put myself out there like that, I had to take that first step and tell my best friend Dani that she was, unbeknownst to her, a big old fag hag. I couldn’t leave Raleigh without having at least opened the closet doors a crack.

It was the summer that Bret Michaels, the lead singer of hair metal band Poison, declared to the world that he was diabetic, an announcement that was greeted with a collective “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” joke. I came home one day to see him staring at me from the cover of my Diabetes Forecast magazine, striking a shirtless pose and wearing his trusty headband as well as a lusty expression that seemed to be saying “Talk dirty to me” or “I want action” or “Unskinny bop” or whatever. I gasped when I first saw the headline—“Bret Michaels Comes Out of the Closet.” For a few short seconds there was real excitement that a popular rock star, even one as vulgar as Bret Michaels, was playing for my team, sexually. But I quickly realized what closet they were referring to. This wasn’t Homosexual Forecast magazine, after all. The closet he was barging out of was the diabetic one. Wait, there’s a diabetic closet?

“Argh,” I’m sure I said to myself when I read the text under the headline: “ ‘Singer talks about his life as a Type 1 diabetic.’ Oh God, so what/who cares?” Sure, OK, it was nice to have a celebrity diabetic out there who was a little bit zeitgeistier than Mary Tyler Moore or Jean Smart, but honestly, what’s so tough about admitting publicly that you have an irritating and sometimes dangerous metabolic disease? No, no, no, what takes real bravery is admitting publicly that you have an irritating and downright disgusting moral disease.

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