James and I went OTP this afternoon for a delicious lunch at Sweet Tomatoes (probably one of the best salad bar restaurants I have ever been to), and after we finished eating, we were hurrying to go, when our waitress said this: “What’s the rush, fellas? The Super Bowl doesn’t start for hours!”
James and I laughed, and said, “Well, that doesn’t really matter; we won’t be watching the Super Bowl.”
She responded with, “Why not? You fellas don’t like football?”
I responded with a grin, “Actually, no, we don’t.”
Then she bounced back with, “Well I know I will be watching, all those big, hot men in all that gear; it is definitely something I look forward to!”
I looked at James and we laughed. Then, I told her, “If that is the case, then perhaps we should be watching too!”
Then, of course, she had that look on her face that people get when they realize you are gay, and didn’t know a moment before. Ah, the joyous adventures outside the perimeter. Now, we are safe and sound back in the hood where we gays belong; debating on whether or not we should be watching the Super Bowl tonight.
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