1000 Short Stories

Story 3: Boys Wear Pink

Boys Wear Pink
(Inspired by Todrick Hall)

At age 24, it wasn't the worst thing in the world anymore owning my homosexuality in public; I mean, who was I kidding? Everyone knew, and those who didn't we're just too plain stupid—sorry, I'm a little in my feelings and calling them stupid might be a little too harsh, I'll just settle down for ignorant, they are plain ignorant, it was just annoying when you literally had to address it in public and that was the exact situation I found myself in on a good Sunday evening at Elegushi Beach.

For the first time in my rainbow colored life, I'd been invited to a private beach party organized by some friend of a friend who just defrauded some white folks and so desperately wanted to celebrate it in public in order not to die alone. I tend to digress a lot. I'm sorry. Anyway, this friend of a friend invited me to this party of cliché "Yahoo Boys" and their bold Gucci-Power Rangers-looking-outfits, and since I knew a couple of people who were going to be in attendance, I decided to attend...as my most original self. Life is too short to be making oneself uncomfortable for the validation or comfort of external factors, so I got into my short shorts (most appropriate for beach, thank you God bless you), an oversized white shirt, a platinum blonde finger combed hair and a piercing. Of course, I got the attention I do unashamedly crave for, and the party was going well, (at least, from the look of things—I mean, no one was drowning and all), until someone got high on cheap weed and suggested that everyone played the El Classico "Truth or Dare".

Pause!

Any queer person reading this right now understands the burden that comes with hearing this game suggested at a cis-het party. It's the worse. You got all uncomfortable (especially if you're openly gay), and subconsciously you begin to feel bad for being yourself. You begin to wonder why your existence has suddenly created an awkwardness in the party because I mean, no guy wants to kiss another dude! (At least not in public), and no girl is actively dying to kiss another one of 'James Brown's gals', that's how they stereotype queer folks in Nigeria by the way; it either James brown or Bobrisky. Lol). Imagine boxing someone's entire existence into the life of another person who managed to acquire fame for their confidence. Awesome right?!

Play!

So, yeah! I got really uncomfortable and started opting out of the game with as much subtlety as I could conjure until a spawn of satan in beach shorts screamed!

"Where is that one going to! You must play oo!" And just like that. Everyone began to laugh at me for being the butt of his joke.

For a minute...maybe more than that, I allowed myself reel in the shame of it all, I was the laughing stock right? They all knew about my sexuality, but they were too hypocritical and ignorant to judge. I gave them the reins to torture my existence. Until I didn't. I rose up, dusted my sandy short shorts, shrugged and said, "Alright, BRING IT ON!" In the most unnecessary sassy and girly nature I could conjure up in that heated moment,( I'm certain Bobrisky and James Brown would have been hella proud of me if they had been in attendance). What I didn't realize was that I'd literally spun the bottle with that brief moment of confidence, no pun intended.

They were going to make me feel like a minority by laughing at me for living a life I couldn't change even if I wanted to? Fine! They I'm going to exchange the favors by making them so freaking uncomfortable that they all wish they didn't know the word "GAY".

The game commenced. My confidence level wasn't really moving like Bobrisky on steroids, but I tried my best to keep my head held high until the bottle finally and obviously landed on me. P.S, I use the word 'obviously' because my dear homophobic friends who had the "misfortune" of sharing a game with me always denied that the bottle was directed at me and this would usually end up with another thunderstorm of laughter.

Anyway, the universe decided to fuck with them a little and the bottle landed on me and the party organizer himself. The silence was deafening... trust me. It was as if they thought that the bottle landing on me magically meant that I had to make out with the celebrant. Major ignorant homophobes.

I watched him ask me, "Truth or Dare?" Everyone froze as they awaited my answer.

"Truth" I said and the sigh of relief was the most insulting sound I've ever had to bare. "What the fuck?" I heard myself ask. "Like, I don't understand, what the fuck? Do y'all really think that queer boys walk around trying to fuck everyone? Is that how straight people think? Do y'all really want to sleep with everyone you come across? I don't understand at all."

One of them tried to speak up but I gladly shushed him with a raise of my right pointer finger.

"Let me guess, you're about to tell me some hetero-privileged nonsense about how it's not easy for Nigerian boys to roll with queer boys, well, why don't you close your eyes and try imagining how easy it is for we the queer ones to walk around an hateful city and country that belongs to us by right, in fear of condemnation and death. You think it's easy? You think we are stupid? Oh! We just want to wear rainbow flags and destroy the world like Sodom and Gomorrah? Oh! We are cursed, sinners, disgusting! Right?! You think it's easy walking around a cursed world where colors are barriers? Well guess what?" I stood up and unapologetically dusted some more sand on whosoever it might concern, "Boys wear Pink too and Girls wear Blue! Open your eyes, Love is Love, we are still humans too! Christ!"  I grabbed one of the intended alcohols (that was probably intended for damaging an innocent girl who couldn't do a lot of dares, brain until they got into her panties) and I left.