Last night was husband’s work Christmas party, and it was hosted/organized by Professional Entertainment Group. For the most part, it was a pretty solid night. There were silly games, a photo booth, and the hotel put on an amazing spread of food.
Except, during one of the games, which involved plastic fruit being shaken around on strings, the host chose to end the round with a quick homophobic joke, because hey, those two men might touch bananas, and ew, am-I-right?
So. It’s one joke. It’s a party. But hey, these days my patience for that crap is zero, and when I saw my husband’s reaction I waited for that game to end, and went up to talk to the guy behind on the stage area.
He waved me off before I could barely say a word. Seriously—he had no idea what I could possibly have wanted to say to him, he just waved me off, calling a young woman over for me to talk to.
So I talked to her. I explained that I got it was a joke, but hey, it’s a holiday party, we’re already the queers in the room, and the rest of the year the world already enjoys us as a punchline, so could we maybe go the rest of the night without the homophobic jokes to remind us how ew we are?
“That wasn’t our intent,” she said, and to her credit, she looked very sincere, and nothing else happened the rest of the night, so… Yay?
On the plus side, my husband’s co-workers asked us a few questions and we got to tell them a bit about what it’s like on a regular basis, so teachable moment.
Right in the middle of a party. Y’know, just when you want to be the guy saying, “Sorry I’m a bit down, that guy running the party just told the whole room I’m gross.”
Ho, ho, fucking ho.
Speaking of which, funnily enough, the post I chose to write is all about how the holidays can really suck for queer folk, and how it can feel like one long advertisement of how you’re the punchline, assuming you’re mentioned at all.
It’s almost like I’ve done this before.