By Your Gay Best Friend
Hey Sister-Girl,
How’s it going? It’s your gay best brother. I know we’ve been through a lot, and I know I never told you this, but I just wanted to say: Thank you.Thank you from the very bottom of my Glee DVD Boxed Set for everything you’ve ever done for me.
Thank you for introducing me to your gay best friends after I first came out to you. They offered me such great words of wisdom like:
“It’s gonna suck,” and, “No, seriously, it’s going to be really hard,” and, “Just don’t think about the fact that you’re never going to be legally married in all 50 states: just bottle all that resentment up deep inside of you until nighttime when you can let it all out on the dance floor.”
Your gay friends made me feel so inspired that I felt like I could do anything as a gay man… as long as I was always slightly bitter about it.
Thank you for taking me to my first gay club — that one that wasn’t clearly marked from the outside except for that single, provocative word in neon lights (like “Danger,” or “Ruthless”) hanging above the entrance. It was the one you and your gay best friends used to frequent back when you were in college.
When you arrived, thank you for pretending as if you didn’t know why every gay man wanted to shake your hand and greet you by the name of “Lady Fabulous” and ask you whether or not you were going to do another show.
Before we parted ways in the club, thank you for explaining to me the rules of the game:
1. Never go to the bathroom without a buddy.
2. Never pee in the back alley without a buddy.
3. You know what: just never go anywhere without a buddy.
4. Never accept a free drink from a stranger who’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts and looks like your 8th grade Biology teacher, Mr. Steward. (Because that is your 8th Grade biology teacher, Mr. Steward.)
5. As much as you really want to, don’t let the go-go dancers near your face because you might get crabs in your eye.
6. Naturally, the combination of hard alcohol and your repressed sexual desires over decades will cause you to want to make out with anything on two legs. That’s perfectly natural. Just know that the sluts are more likely to have mono.
7. FYI: the sluts are the ones who keep applying chapstick to their lips, have shifty eyes, and shield their cell phone screens with their hand when they text.
Thank you for leaving me alone after I found my first gay friends. My new gay buddies and I ended up having drinks and sharing our coming out stories. We learned that we all came out on Christmas, except for one guy who came out on Halloween. (We all laughed when he said that his parents thought he was just announcing his costume for the night!)
Thanks for taking me out to breakfast the next day, and thank you for accepting my apology for getting so drunk the night before I didn’t even remember the ride back to your apartment. Except, of course, there was that dream I had where you were dancing down a catwalk wearing a corset, a wig, and a red feather boa while several gay men in the crowd shouted:
“We love you, LADY FABULOUS!”
Thank you for not thinking I was weird for having such a strange dream. And thank you for resisting the urge to slash the tires of every gay man who broke my heart ever since I came out. Though it was strange when I heard that all my ex’s had to move because they weren’t allowed into any of the gay clubs in the area. (Every club bouncer told them that a famous drag queen named “Laytea Favless” requested that they be refused entry.)
Most of all, thank you for not judging the new love of my life: Jason. 
Sure, Jason is just a fictional werewolf in a wildly popular young adult novel — but he’s real to me and that’s all that matters.
Thank you for not judging my secret, underground life as a Twilight fanatic as long as I didn’t judge the secret, underground life you may or may not be leading.
Oh and, by the way, that reminds me: see you at Revolt tonight, Lady Fabulous.
I mean… sister.
Love ya. Forever.
Bitch.
Sincerely,
Your Gay Best Brother
