Catch-22 [Thankful for the Fools]

Before I get into this story, I have to state that yesterday was my friend Sarah's birthday. At her party- there was drinking, dancing, drunk tweetin, cake eating, and someone brought a pack of those temporary wet-on tattoos. So we're all pretty hammered and somewhere in the mix, either I or someone else decides to give me a tramp stamp.I get one of roses, stems and a heart in the middle and a little fairy on the end.


Lately, my friends have been trying to hook me up with a girl. I'm beginning to think any girl will do... I think they're just tired of seeing me grow colder as the days go past. I'm not making this up my friend Jamie actually said, "I can't wait until you find a girlfriend so that you can become the you were when [enter The Constant's name here] was around" Which I don't really understand but whatever. So I'm hanging out with this girl, fighting the fiercest hangover from Sarah's party. This was my third time out with the girl, I wasn't in particular finding any signs that this relationship would prosper- especially on this particular date where we just kicked it back at her apartment watching a movie along with the surprisingly great dinner she cooked. We were making casual conversation when the topic of past boyfriends popped up.
Now she's a pretty trendy girl, I knew this from date two when she decided that I was over due a whole day spent at the mall revamping my attire. I argued I'm not trendy, and I actually enjoy my individuality. She's used to the skinny jeans guys, the 365 scarf guys, the earring guys, all the things that guys are doing nowadays that would've gotten me an all expense paid ass kicking from my father.

So anyway, after hearing a buncha stories about her exes, which included such acts as spending the night over his male friend's house while all three slept in the same bed... and one of her ex-boyfriend's once took her shopping and gives her excellent makeup advice since they both were interested in modeling. It just seemed with each story her taste seemed more and more... metrosexu- fuck that, gay.
I even commented using that term- in that exact sense. It's a frequent colloquiallism to do that, not that I am a gay basher, I actually enjoy the company of a couple of my gay friends...(while the others, I wish would lose my number) I just wouldn't protest with them. It's their war, not mine. [Here comes the hate mail.] She decides to give me the third degree about my choice of words, and how I'm an ignorant right wing minded person. I did not defend these terms- due to I feel I shouldn't explain accusations that aren't true. Now these exes probably aren't homosexual.. not even questioning that. It's just those actions are kinda feminine. End of story.
So the conversation ends, and we're eating...I'm commenting on her great Mc and Cheese. She enjoys the praise... and then we're half an hour into "Zack and Miri Make A Porno" when we're making out.
Then. I'm taking my shirt off. Then. She sees my temp tattoo.
She stops...pushes away, and then asks me with a slightly disgusted face...

"Eww. Are you gay?"
"No."
"Hmm. Well... I'm kinda uncomfortable...so let's just watch the movie"
I can't win for losing.

"Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed." -Mark Twain