I write this post with great trepidation concerning the possible backlash I might receive even offering to you these thoughts that raced through my noggin last night at Applebee's.
After deciding that Applebees was the place to dine for the evening for the sole purpose of getting out of the house with family in tow, minus our eldest queen bee, we were comfortably seated and given our drinks and then given the chance to listen to, from our youngest queen bee, whining about why the food was taking SOOO LONG to get to our table.
The restaurant quickly filled to near capacity by folks either absolutely starving or those seeking shelter from the coming ice storm.
Either way I noticed that to my left on the upper floor (two steps up) of the restaurant, two clean cut, out on-the -town cowboys had just been seated.
Both wearing their best duds and their nicest hats I thought just for a moment, "How nice it would be to be in my early twenties again with nothing to do but paint the town with my best bud, no committments, no cares, just hanging out drinking a beer or two and then starting the hunt for the future "Mrs".
That's when it hit me. Brokeback Mountain. I didn't see the movie. Don't want to see the movie. Good for you if you saw it.
I found myself watching these guys and wondering. Are they now coming out of the closet? They DO seem a bit too chatty. They ARE looking at each other right in the eye when they talk. Just what are they laughing at?
I wonder if two cowboys enjoying each others' company are, on a regular basis, now being scrutinized for just being together. Are band geeks who have historically received insane amounts of bad treatment now paying back the "Rednecks" for generations of humiliation. I could also imagine a carload of computer nerds chasing down a Ford truck and whipping the cowboys with their laptops and then taking their clothes and leaving them stranded in the middle of the night. Not that that ever happened to me.
But it was always the rednecks who would stick their scrawny necks out of their pickup for a late night drive-by screaming "SISSIES!!!" and other derogatory remarks about our manhood while we were playing tennis until midnight back in the eighties.
I remember yelling back at them at the top of my lungs something like, "Blank you, you piece of blank!"
Then watching my "tough" tennis playing buddies get all nervous that they might come back. Not once did they ever come back.
Back to Applebees now. Then I wondered, "What would they do If I started making eyes at them? That would be the proof I was looking for. I asked myself, "Self, why do you even care? Are you trying to start a ruckus here on Holy Ground?" "Applebees?"
Then I saw the proof I had been waiting for. THEY WERE DRINKING BEER FROM LONGNECK BOTTLES.
Once again I rest my case and my weary legs.