Coming out has brought many new experiences and situations my way. Our recent camping trip wasn’t my first time at a gay campground. I went for the first time last year and saw couples holding hands and hugging. Outside. Where everyone could see. It was new then. This time I expected it and looked forward to that freedom. This time there was live music and couples dancing, but I’ve been to a few gay clubs so even that wasn’t a new experience. I’ve even been around flamboyantly gay men a few times so meeting a couple of gay guys at the campground wasn’t a big deal.
But then there was Tim. Everything about Tim was over the top…flamboyantly gay…and I loved it!
When we met him he walked right up to me and called me beautiful as he kissed me on the cheek. As we helped our neighbors set up their tent he joked about how he shouldn’t be having as much trouble as he was putting a “pole in a hole”. As we were sitting around he acted offended by the gay men holding hands and hugging a few campsites away all the while joking about it being a Baptist campground. When he talked about the evening’s festivities he wished he had thought to bring his drag, because he wanted to dress up. Instead he was going to have to settle for his elephant thong. He had an empty paper towel roll to help fill it because “Lord knows he didn’t have enough to do so.” For the chili cook-off he made a vodka cocoa chili that was so strong it could be used to remove paint. And as we all were packing up to leave on Sunday morning he came over to our campsite and asked, “so do you wanna give an old faggot a hug?”
And all I could think was yes. Yes I do. It wouldn’t have been a successful camping trip if I hadn’t gotten to give an old faggot a hug.