But, you see, The Gay Man? He does not like me.
When I was in the optical business, and I determined that a gentleman who had just walked in the door was most likely gay, I would have to find a reason to have one of my co-workers help him, because it was sure to be a disaster if I did it. I'd be all, "Hi! How can I help you today?" and he'd be all, "Just looking." Until said co-worker happened to stroll by and then, he'd be all "Sweetie, darling, pumpkin - am I more fabulous in the Prada or the Gucci?" And then they'd be best friends. And it wasn't just certain co-workers - it was anybody but me. A gay couple once came in when I was in the store alone, and I tried so hard to help them, until it was clear they just wanted nothing to do with me, so I left them alone—and then the next day they called my boss to complain about me. Apparently, when I tried to help them, I was acting like they were going to steal something, and when I left them alone, I was cold and unhelpful. In my defense, I was in that business for 17 years and I never had a single complaint about me in all that time.
I feel the need to mention this, so that this will be in context:
|From The Bitchy Stitcher|
Have you seen this magazine? The dude on the cover is Mark Lipinkski and he is a quilter and a fabric designer and this magazine is his creation. It seems that he writes a lot of the content himself, and he starts half his pieces with "Dudes!" It's all written in a very dishy style, and you get the idea that he has the sort of personality where he could become best buddies with anyone, like even your rabidly anti-gay uncle who is convinced that "the gays" are all trying to recruit children into the "lifestyle". By the time Mark was done with him, he'd be buffing his nails and grooving to Lady GaGa.
But I have to wonder: who, other than Oprah, makes the editorial decision to put himself on every cover? Every cover OF A QUILTING MAGAZINE? And not only does he put himself on every cover, his dog is always there as well, usually in some bizarrely miniaturized form.
Frankly, I think this crazy publication is just about the greatest thing to ever happen to quilting periodicals. I love the non-stuffy feel, the embrace of all styles of quilts and quilting, the advice on what rug would go with that new Alexander Henry line, the gung-ho, "You can do it!'' kind of articles. I love the fact that this guy spends time in editorial meetings going, "How shall we photograph ME for the next cover? ME and MY DOG? I think our readers are dying to see me grinning my face off while looking at the miniature dog on my shoulder. GENIUS."
But as much as I love the magazine, I am thrown off by the knowledge that, if Mr. Lipinski were to meet me, my gay man repelling vibes would send him reeling and he would be all, "Oh, honey. You know all that stuff I say in my mag about how quilters are all wonderful and anyone can do it and hugs and kisses and smooches? Well I didn't mean you." And then he'd snatch my copy away and go call my boss to complain about me.
I guess the upshot is that I should just start my own quilting magazine. The Bitchy Stitcher's Quilting Companion: A Quilting Magazine For the Rest of Us. It would of course be filled with many helpful tutorials and projects designed for total morons, and the cover would always feature me preparing to commit an act of violence upon a sewing machine (baseball bat, machine gun, dynamite, monster truck). And somewhere in every picture would be a tiny, miniature bottle of Dr. Pepper.