Same-sex couples are now permitted to marry in New York City. Media hog and certified lesbian, City Council Speaker, Christine Quinn is already lapping up the benefits of a legal-binding ceremony. Although already in a certified domestic partner relationship, and having appeared on the cover of many gay-friendly New York magazines, the red head that almost all of straight New York is sick of, found it necessary to get married again yesterday. Rather than kissing her bride, Christine Quinn spent the afternoon blabbing in front of television cameras, expressing how hard she and others like her have it in life.
Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who could easily pass as a rich, flamboyant queen, married two male members of his cabinet yesterday. Not a single reporter asked the mayor why he has so many old gay Jews on his cabinet and why they are gay, even though everyone in New York City knows that gay men are the most talented in all of society. Although the new law has brought joy to the hearts of many, it is a sad reality that the only individuals appearing before news cameras in light of the new law are sexually repulsive people like Christine Quinn.
My lover of many years nearly choked on his own spit after I described what was before our eyes on local news yesterday– “Look at that! They are a bunch of old dinosaurs, days away from extinction, not understanding what that bright light is in the sky. Who would ever want to fuck any of them? Where are all the young and beautiful gay men who we see cruising the parks late at night? You sure as hell don’t see them running downtown to City Hall like their hair is on fire. Where are the beautiful people like us, who do not care that we are gay, but live this way because the sex is good?”
“Aint’ that some shit?” My lover asked, shaking his head in disbelieve, purposely rattling the strings of beads that enclose the braids on the back of his little head. “There isn’t a single sexy soul on that line. There’s something not right about this gay marriage thing. You would think there would at least be a young and tender gold digger waiting to take one of those old bastards to the bank! That’s so fucking funny– ‘a bunch of old dinosaurs’. That’s so true.”
“Gay men are smart,” said I, “When you are young and beautiful, everyone wants to marry you and will give you the very shirt from their back. It’s only when a man knows he has someone wrapped around his finger that his dick goes soft. Please promise you will never ask to marry me, ‘B’. I don’t want to be a Tyrannosaurus and you a big Triceratops.”
My closeted lover simply smiled at me while resting nearby on a soft pillow. His gold tooth sparkled in the glow of a little seashell night light plugged into an outlet near our little love nest “Hey, rub my back again,” he insisted, as if I belonged to him like cattle, land, or a slave.