I used to hang out with a guy who was super super negative all the time. His catch phrase was, “Ah, f*ck, man.” One time we were hiking a short, easy-to-navigate trail in Arizona. We were in a section of a wash that had about a million footprints, not a quarter of a mile from our destination. He stopped, got a look of desperation on his face, and said, “Rich, man, I think we’re f*ckin’ lost, man.”
On another occasion, he learned that a lot of gays were really into one of his favorite artists, Natalie Merchant. He looked at me with that really anguished expression on this face, paused, then asked, “Am I gay?”
I’m telling you that to tell you this: I recently discovered an internet radio station called Erin’s Chill. It is almost exclusively female artists, and it is my distinct impression that it is geared toward gay women. The thing is, I am really taken by the music. In fact, I’ve listened to little else all week. Ah, f*ck, man. Am I a lesbian?
