I like being open with my family but sometimes I have to remind myself to tone it down a bit. The night I took my brother and sister-in-law out to West Hollywood I revealed something about myself that made them cringe.
“That guy over there,” I said as I stopped them in their tracks.
“Who? Which one?” my sister-in-law asked as she not-so-slyly looked around.
“That one,” I said as I nodded towards the dark haired guy standing on the curb. The guy, who I’ve seen a million times and talked to once (to no avail), looks just like Jesse Metcalfe. He works at one of the bars and is always shirtless. “He’s got the most beautiful armpits. I’ve always wanted to lick them,” I said.
“What? Ewe,” my sister-in-law said. My brother reacted similar to how a dog does when they sniff too much pollen. He sneezed and then tried to rub the gross from his face. Their reaction surprised me. What’s so strange about liking/licking armpits? They’re sexy. They’re manly. The hairier the better. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t wanna stuff my face in one after he’s come home from a long day of bussing tables but once he’s showered, then sure.
“Does back hair turn you on?” my brother asked.
“No,” I said and then tried to drop the conversation because I realized some things are better kept between gay friends and not family.
“How about butt hair? Do you like that?” my brother asked.
I kept quiet. But yes, I do.