I’ve been nervous about coming out at work because I live in a small, conservative town and work for a company whose CEO makes a big deal about his Christianity. So while I haven’t made efforts to hide, I’ve not been vocal about it either. Well, it finally happened. Someone at work had the gumption to ask me if I’m gay. I answered truthfully, so that cat is finally out of the bag.
I think it was the fact that I started painting my fingernails that prompted her to ask. It was in the breakroom while we were having cake and ice cream for the January birthdays. She was sitting at the counter talking to someone else when I was scooping ice cream for myself. She noticed by nails and asked if something was wrong with my fingers. I replied that I painted them.
“You’re weird,” she said.
“I’ve been called worse,” I answered.
Then another woman sitting at a different table wanted to see my nails. I showed her my fingers and as I turned to leave the breakroom, the first woman asked, “Are you gay?”
I nodded, turned and left the breakroom.
The next day a third woman who was in the breakroom at the time asked if it was true. I confirmed; but she is still not sure if I’m pulling their collective legs or truthful. I’m in the strange position of trying to prove it. I’ve shown my Stonewall Democrat membership card, my membership card to the now-defunct gay bar and my rainbow checks. I reckon I might have to give a demonstration to prove it.
“It doesn’t matter,” she added. You’re still my friend - Which is good since she’s one of only two other people in the building who watch Buffy and Angel.
And I have to say that not only am I relieved to have that monkey off my back, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the whole non-event of the situation. I’ve had not one single negative response. And more than one positive result.
For instance one of fellow cube dwellers has identified herself as a major Fag Hag and has promised to set me up with one of her friends.
Could it be possible that the world is getting better?
