I don’t read Cosmopolitan. Occasionally my wife will pick up a copy, and I might thumb through the pages while I’m waiting for my water to boil. I probably should read it; after all, as Jeff Foxworthy says, it’s kind of like spying on the enemy.
However, I am very, very close to buying a copy of the latest issue. Apparently, there’s an article in there that I find mighty intriguing: “Is Your Man Gay? The One Surefire Sign!”, or something to that effect.
Now let me say right now that if someone is gay, I don’t care. Doesn’t bother me. One of my best friends is, in fact, gay. I would also think that it would be pretty self-evident that your boyfriend is batting for the home team. The most telling symptom, of course, would be that he doesn’t want to have sex with you. And he dresses better than you do.
That being said, however, I can’t help thinking that the ability to pick a gay man out of a crowd, learned from this insightful article, might be a useful trick.
Agent 008 hunched over the device, the last words from HQ running through his mind.
“Now, remember, 008: In order to deactivate the doomsday device, you have to cut the chartreuse wire. Not the puce wire – the chartreuse one. If you cut the puce, kiss your keister goodbye if you’ve got time.”
Agent 008 cursed. How the hell was he supposed to tell the difference? He stood and scanned the crowd, his eyes darting like lightning as he looked for a gay man for help. Luckily, while waiting to be briefed for this mission, he had flipped through the September issue of Cosmo, and he knew exactly what to look for. Just as he was about to admit defeat, over by the window he spotted the One Surefire Sign.
008 sighed. This day might just turn out all right, after all.
The other part of this is, of course: what if I exhibit this One Surefire Sign? I am quite certain that I’m heterosexual. However, you might remember my run-in with the Gender Genie, my arch-nemesis. That experience led me to doubt myself somewhat, and if I am showing the One Surefire Sign, then I might need to re-evaluate my wardrobe.
And the last obvious thing to think about is that if I am trying to protect my heterosexual image, the last thing I need is to be seen buying a copy of Cosmo. I guess I’m screwed. Any of you ladies reading Cosmo care to fill me in?
September 10th, 2007 at 4:59 pm
That might be the sign. One big joke:
Outside: Surefire sign that your man is gay
Inside: He buys Cosmo
It’s a trick, I tell you!
September 10th, 2007 at 5:37 pm
If that is indeed the case, you have my thanks. That could have been an embarrassing mistake.
September 10th, 2007 at 6:37 pm
You had me at 008!!
September 10th, 2007 at 7:57 pm
I’m not nearly cool enough or suave enough to be 007. However, I think I can aspire to be 008. “Follow your dreams,” I always say, “except for that one where you’re naked at work.”
September 11th, 2007 at 5:15 pm
And then, there’s also the possibility that 008 had more than one reason for looking for the Sign…
September 12th, 2007 at 6:02 am
That’s true. He’s having a devil of a time finding a pair of shoes to go with his tux. But I’ve said too much already.
September 12th, 2007 at 6:56 am
I’ll go buy a Cosmo for you. I don’t think anyone would mistake me for being anything but heterosexual. I’m not in nearly good enough shape to be gay.
September 12th, 2007 at 7:20 am
Thanks, Pinhole. I’m not sure what to offer you in return. How about a gift subscription to Knitter’s Weekly? I swear, I only read it for the pictures…
September 17th, 2007 at 3:49 am
This reminded me of an episode of The Office where Michael and Dwight were trying to figure out who else in the office (besides Oscar) was gay and Dwight got hold of a gaydar…
September 17th, 2007 at 5:53 am
I missed that episode, unfortunately. I’m a newcomer to watching The Office, and I’m trying to get caught up with everything I missed. It’s going to take me a while, I think.