George: Hey Mom, I just wanted to call and let you know I’m probably not gonna come home tonight or be out really late.
Mom: Okay, thanks for letting me know.
George: I need to take my friend to the airport at like 4am and–
Mom: Just make sure you are doing the right thing.
Mom: Think about what you are doing…if it is right.
Mom: Don’t be sleeping around; you might get a disease.
George: What?!–I don’t even–Never mind, see you tomorrow.
I still don’t understand why my mom thinks I am promiscuous or occasionally gay… It used to be funny and still kind of is. But now that it’s been about three years of her accusing/gesturing I wonder what kind of a light I am truly being or if I am not being inclusive enough of her in my life.
Anyways. Ever since the fiasco in which she thought I was gay, I would intentionally listen to gangster rap music whenever she was nearby. The ones with lots of guns being shot, reloaded and girls gasping for air and moaning in the background would frequently grace my speakers. Hopefully that would make me seem more masculine, and somehow more straight?
When I was a young boy, girls used to hug me all the time, and I would just nosebleed and passout. So I don’t know why she thinks I would be fond of physical touch.