Last week my new friend Gerry and I were sitting at the Film Center Cafe, drinking wine, having a cabbages and kings conversation. I had just seen her do some lovely and moving work in a one-act play festival, so there was much to discuss. At one point, due to the theme of one of the plays, we started talking about gay people.
Gerry exclaimed, “Look, I don’t care if it’s a woman with a man, a man with a man, a woman with a woman, or a PIG with an ELF…love is love, you know what I mean?”
Uhm … a pig with an elf?
What?
I was completely following the logic there, Gerry, but the pig with the elf thing kind of threw me off …
I wish I didn’t object to such a pairing, but I’m afraid that I do. And I don’t know on what grounds, except that I find the whole thing intensely disturbing. And also riotously funny. Gerry and I LOST IT.
Gerry wailed, “I am not a well woman! I’m sick! My MIND!! Where do I come up with these things??”
