My F*cking Life

Gay Joke

Okay, so, I was sitting in my Eighth Grade Advanced English Class when this tiny little, chipmunk-*ss motherf*cker with a voice so high I could use it as a dog whistle, decides to make a gay (joke?)

To preface this story, earlier that year I had participated in the GLSEN Day of Silence and had actually led the charge of it at my school. Long story short, I made a video, got over 100 students to participate, painted a large black X over my mouth, didn't speak all day, got sent to the principle's office in Choir, had a staring contest with our scary-*ss, six-foot-something disciplinarian (which I won,) watched my mom tear him apart with a smile on my face, and went home early with a splotch on my permanent record and a new reputation as the school's psycho bad*ss. The moral of the story is: When it comes to human rights and the such I have the dedication of a puppy climbing up the stairs for the first time to reach its mum, and the anger management of a rabid raccoon.  

Also important to the story: This teacher, who, for the sake of this story will be known as Ms. Awesome, is probably the youngest and nicest teacher in the school, but happens to be a very avid supporter of LGBTQ+ Rights and the one to encourage and support me throughout the entire fiasco with the protest. 

Back to the story. We were talking about our weekend plans, which was part of our weekly Friday routine, when the most popular guy in the school (for the purposes of this story, Mr. Basketball) mentions that he had gotten a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious  private school for his skills in basketball. Now, obviously, this had gotten Mr. Dog-Whistle-Chipmunk-Butt's panties in a twist because, "Oh no! One of my 20 best friends is going to a separate yet still incredibly close school so I won't be able to hug him every five seconds forcing my entire grade to sit through 20 minute lectures on PDA once a week! What ever will I do?!" (Seriously though, why does everyone talk about girls being all touchy-feely when I have never seen anyone touch each other more than two middle school boys?) 

Now, in the classroom most kids were congratulating Mr. Basketball, the rest discreetly yet noticeably reading beneath their desks, and me, politely paying attention but not caring enough to bring myself to care. Except for Mr. Dog-Whistle-Chipmunk-Butt. No, Mr. Dog-Whistle-Chipmunk-Butt was doing what he had been doing for weeks: trying to find reasons for Mr. Basketball not to go to that school. Mr. Dog-Whistle-Chipmunk-Butt, by now grasping at straws, blurts something out.

"If (Mr. Basketball) goes to an all boys school, he'll turn gay!"

Now, you'd understand why I'd put a question mark after "joke," as I was not sure if it was meant to be funny. Although, I was sure of one thing, it was not. 

In the split second after he'd said this, here's a snapshot of the room. Half the students gasped, a quarter looked to see what I would do, and the other quarter did both. Even Mr. Basketball, who was overall an annoying *sshole with no filter, looked absolutely horrified and terrified. He looked an awful lot like Harry in the Goblet of Fire movie after Ron decided to voice his astute observation that Hermione was, in fact, a girl (which can be seen in the media section above for reference.) End pan shot of the slow motion classroom with me slamming my hand really hard on the table (ow) and swinging around to say something only to be cut off by a voice most of us had only heard angry in our imaginations.

"Mr. Dog-Whistle-Chipmunk-Butt, what in the world is wrong with you?!"

Ms. Awesome. Insert beautiful five minute rage fueled lecture on LGBTQ+ Rights and respect, complete with exasperated looks shared between me and Ms. Awesome, here. Mr. Dog-Whistle-Chipmunk-Butt sunk down in his seat, everyone took a breath of relief, and we continued on with our day. But, you best bet I laughed my *ss off with my friends about it at lunch and wrote Ms. Awesome an extra letter at the end of the year. All in all, that was the best f*cking day of my life.