Of parties and exes

The past two weekends have been filled with almost non-stop revelry for me and my posse. It’s been a fun blur of drink, dance and… the dreaded ex! Because Harare’s gay community is really small, you are inevitably going to bump into that ex you may not be completely over. Cue the awkward conversations. The surreptitious glances. The jealous evil-eye at his next conquest. And of course the excessive drinking so that you appear cool and unaffected by his presence. Never mind the fact that he’s probably going through the same emotions. But in that moment all you can think about is yourself. You feel stupid for still having feelings for him but unable to stop caring for him and seeking him out. You secretly hope that you’ll ‘bump’ into each other in a quiet corner, the romantic orchestra will burst into a triumphant love song and you’ll run into each other’s arms and fall into long passionate embrace (all transgressions forgiven and forgotten). But, alas. Life isn’t a Hollywood melodrama. Life is opening yourself to love in the full knowledge that the love can quickly turn into pain and heartache. You can’t truly love someone until you accept that. This love, this relationship is for right now and any promises of forever are liable to be broken.

Fags and their hags

Yes, I used those words. But we all do, and besides it’s a part of my plan to reclaim words of hate.  I’m reclaiming words that have been hurled as insults at me and using them to empower myself and hopefully others. Countless others have and are doing the same thing with words like nigger and even cunt in Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues. Enough prologue and on to the post…

Every fag has a hag. Some, like me, have a few. You know those straight girl-friends with whom you share everything and then some. Well not everything… I’ve never shared a man with any of my hags! But they do know a lot about me – my crushes, my boyfriends, my family and any other detail big and small! In all my years and conversations with fellow fags, I’ve found that hags fall into at least three categories which I will explore further. There are others, and you are welcome to add them in the comments, but these are the hags that are part of my life.
  1. The hag in love: Perhaps the most difficult hag to deal with. She has been in love with you for as long as you have known her. You may not have immediately told you were gay but she would have read the signs had she not been so hopelessly in love with you. Now that she knows that you’re just not into her, she is supportive and even hooks you up with guys. She may even be dating or married. But there is always something in the way she looks at you, the way her hand lingers on your shoulder after a casual touch, the way she casually mentions how perfect for her you are. When you encounter this hag be careful of what you say to her, how you hug or touch her and never, I repeat, never say those three words to her. You know the ones I’m talking about. Don’t say you weren’t warned!
  2. The needy hag: We all have these friends, you know the ones who need you for something. With hags the needs are restricted to what pop culture has made us experts in and will include fashion, interior decorating, event planning, music, food and art. Don’t get me wrong, I love telling this breed of hag what to do, but my interests do extend those pop culture says I’m supposed to be into as a gay man under 30! And let’s admit it every man, fag or not, loves being needed. This makes this hag an irresistible addiction; you can caught in her needs and before you know it, you’re calling her to ask if she needs your advice. Approach this hag with caution!
  3. The bff or sister-you-always-wanted hag: This is the hag is like an honest politician in Africa – hard to come by, but if you do keep them close! This one is a keeper. For someone like me with three sisters with whom I cannot explicitly share my love for men, this hag is a God-send. We chat like siblings about everything, including the hotness-monsters who make the world a better place to look at. The other thing I love about this hag is how protective she is – like a lioness to her cubs, she will fight for you and kick the shit out of anyone caught messing with her fag. But be prepared, because sometimes she will throw the first punch, grab you and flee from the scene. Nights out with this type of hag are the best because in her you have the ideal dance partner and drinking buddy. The only thing you can’t do together is go to the toilet!

Well there it is my exposition on those women we love – our hags. Long may they live and prosper…