My friend Tatianya and I went to visit a friend in the hospital tonight who recently had heart surgery. It's sad because said friend is only 36 years old, one year younger than I am!!! Eek! No he's had heart problems throughout his life and this surgery wasn't unexpected, just unexpected at this time. We visited for a while until visiting hours were over. He looks goods, well, as good as anyone can be for someone whose had several major incisions from their stomach to chest. I felt bad because to be hospitalized requires no modesty and surrender of privacy. I remember a few weeks ago when I had been hospitalized folks just traipse in and out of your room with little or no announcement. It's all fair game. Another time when I had been hospitalized, I had surgery for an infection in my groin and I had to show off my wares to more than enough people. Talk about humiliating. The only good thing about hospitals is more and more professionals are openly gay, or at least, discernible on "gaydar."
from I'm still gimping around myself, walking is relatively a pain in the ass, figuratively speaking. I had to stop a few times before I got to Mikhail's (our friend) room to rest. Along the way I took in the scenery as per usual. Once we got to Mikhail's, he had a young professional attending to him. He asked if we could excuse ourselves for a few minutes while they removed some sutersMikhail and then we could come back in. Since I hadn't eaten most of the day, I meandered down to the cafeteria grinning to myself. As I walked out, Tatianya noticed my smirk. "What?"
"Check back with me later." I smiled sheepishly, glanced back at the bed, and left. After Tatianya hunted me down and gave the go ahead to come back upstairs, I filled her in. First I asked her who the young guy was working on Mikhail. "I dunno. Some doctor. Why?" I explained to Tatianya that as I was coming into the room was checking out said professional as I always do when someone delictably beautiful is before me. The gentleman looked up at me and greeted me. "Oh nothing, except he was gay," I told her matter of factly. Naturally Tatianya doubted my assumption.
"Girl, please. I am a 'mo after all and I know. Besides we locked eyes!" I explained to her usually when a man looks into another man's eyes longer than a few moments, surpassing that "uncomfortable" moment most straight men look away, its a key indicator he's probably gay. It's not always true, but 99.44% of the time it is. "Trust me."
No comments:
Post a Comment