ostensibly to pee. But now I’m sitting in my office blogging. I did pee, though, I swear. Plus, I can totally hear from here.

The middle-aged frat boy I discussed earlier is preaching, and he’s annoying the holy hell out of me. That’s why I sneaked. Probably not a terribly Christian attitude, that. But the sermon’s one prolonged football metaphor! I just can’t take it. Blargh.

I had a weird encounter this morning. Guest Preacher grew up in this church, and his parents still attend here. He has a gay brother, a very handsome gay brother a couple of years older than me. His mom, whom I see a lot, keeps hinting I should ask out said gay brother, even though she knows GB is gay. I’m simultaneously sicked out and flattered by this suggestion. Is she meaning to say she thinks I’m cute enough to convert him? I should add at this point that I don’t really think “conversion,” sexually speaking, is something we really ought to attempt to foist on others. Or has she noticed I have really big hands? In any event, it’s far from appropriate and is not super-loving mom behavior to try to enlist me or anyone else in the “straightening” of her really sweet son who happens to be gay.

GB and I were talking this morning, mostly about the buffoonishness of his brother. She was looking at us. He sighed. Do you mind if I put my arm around you? I said I didn’t, so he did. It made me really sad for him.

I have the idea that she’s trying to sell heterosexuality to him like she did broccoli when he was a kid: try it, you’ll like it. And I have the idea that he’s humoring her in this, so he can “earn” his gayness in her eyes. This is an experiment in which I will participate no further. I wonder if she knows that he and his “roommate” have been together since college.

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