Don’t Be A Drag, Just Cause A Scene

(My dad is… let’s just say not the most openly tolerant individual in the world. I had grown up showing pretty traits and he’d long since been trying to “man it out of me” with things like forced sports, wrestling, etc. etc. ultimately ending with him threatening to disown me if I ever bring anyone but a “nice, white Christian girl” back home, not aware that I’d long since become comfortable in being gay. I’m twenty-two when this happens. I have a job and have just rented my first apartment with my boyfriend of two years who I’ve kept secret from the rest of the family. After I’ve gotten everything moved out, I decide to say goodbye for the last time by coming out and leaving, disowning him before he can do it to me. After I’ve said goodbye to my mom and brother, I turned to him.)

Me: “Well, that’s everything; I guess that’s it. My ride should be here soon.”

Dad: “Oh, yeah, you had that friend of yours helping you, right? I’ll be honest. I’ve never felt good about him. He’s always so…” *at this point, he inserts a few gay slurs here*

(I just clear my throat as my boyfriend pulls up.)

Boyfriend: “Heeeeeey! You ready to do the thing?”

Me: “Yep! Just as planned.”

(At this, I reach into his car, pull out a boombox, and set it on the ground to play. Every song is by a gay or at least flamboyant singer about the joys of living life and loving who you want. After it starts playing, I hop in the car, kiss my boyfriend, and drive off before my dad can get another word in. Later that night, I’m talking to my brother.)

Brother: “Oh, man, you should have seen it. He just stared dead for like half an hour before running over the stereo with his car. He was SOOOOO mad. It was amazing!”

(Apparently I left an impression, because when my little brother came out as trans a few years later, he did the exact same thing before he left.)