I was curious to see how life as we knew it had changed with the revelation that we lived in the "Pink Triangle" - that's what you get when you connect the dots between our house, Jim and his gay dad, and the gay neighbor across the street.
The answer would appear to be, not much.
The boyfriend hasn't had any interaction with any of them since the Super Bowl party. I thought for sure there would be cocktails scheduled by now. Maybe brunch down at Buck Owens' Crystal Palace (it's the best in town, they say). But that's not how they roll here, I guess.
Not much is known about the neighbor. He made so little impression on the boyfriend that he couldn't even describe him. Of course he'd been drinking. I think his name is Tom, although the boyfriend was a little shaky on that bit of information too. The only thing I can deduce about him is he's a Bad Gay. His front yard is overgrown and unkempt and as we head into March, his Christmas decorations are still up. That would simply be unspeakable in West Hollywood.
And then there's Jim and his dad. Jim was out with a cocktail when I pulled up with the dogs on Monday, as usual. He came over to say hi and asked about my mom. He could see that the three of us were ragged out from the drive and said he'd leave us alone and we could "catch up" later.
Catch up?
With what? Other than dog-walking small talk I know nothing about him.
But then last night, I met dad.
I was taking the dogs out for their final walk around 9:30, and as we walked back I could see a car backing out of Jim's driveway. As the car drove away, there was a lone figure standing on the sidewalk.
It was Kenny Rogers.
Or a dead ringer for him.
Turns out it was Gay Kenny Rogers, otherwise known as Jim's dad.
He was dressed in sweats and flip flops. As we got about 10 feet from him, he spoke out in the gayest, sing-song voice...
"I know who YOOOOOOU are! You much be Eric. Im Erich too.... with an 'H'".
I was getting a total disconnect between him and Jim. They didn't seem from the same planet, much less related.
He extended his hand in such a way I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to shake it or kiss it. I chose the former.
He expressed how happy he was to meet me and sang the boyfriend's praises. Mentioned something about getting together soon. For some reason all I could think about was Kenny Rogers Roasters Fried Chicken.
I was actually kind of excited about the prospect of our own little Bako gay clique, but it's starting to look like a sketchier proposition that I imagined. Time will tell. We'll see what I think after I meet the other neighbor.
