Grocery Tales

Last night, I went recreational grocery shopping with my partner during the one day he was home between two long business trips.  It was about half past midnight, and the only other shoppers were these two older dudes (maybe forties?) who fit the stereotype of flaming gay men to a T.  The one carrying all the groceries with a limp wrist wore a neon orange, skin tight T shirt.  The other had an unusual haircut (like a Chelsea, only less hair everywhere), rainbow plastic rimmed glasses, and some really interesting ear jewelery.  Given that the one with the flashy accessories must be used to it, what was strange about this encounter was not that I stared at them. It was that they stared at me.

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