I have a friend who is… strange, to say the least. He is FIERCELY pro-gay rights and yet is simultaneously one of the most homophobic people I’ve ever met. Don’t ask me to explain his logic, because I can’t. It’s worth noting that neither of us is gay.
I invite him to go with me on a trip to London, which requires an early morning departure; our flight is at 6:30 am or something like that. To soften the pain of waking up early, I decide that we’ll go to the airport the night before and check ourselves into the airport hotel, literally a three-minute walk from departures.
We arrive at the hotel and check in, and on entering our room, we discover that the reception has put us in a double room instead of a twin. I say nothing, but my friend starts THIS conversation.
Friend: “It’s a double bed.”
Me: “Yes, it is. Reception must have messed up.”
Friend: “So, can we talk to them? It’s a double bed!”
I phone reception, who realise their error and apologise, saying that they can’t do anything about it as they are fully booked. They give us a complimentary dinner in the hotel as an apology. I thank them, tell them we manage with a double bed, and hang up.
My friend emerges from the bathroom as I’m hanging up the phone.
Friend: “Well?”
Me: “They’re fully booked.”
Friend: “So what do we do? It’s a double bed.”
Me: “We’ll have to manage.”
My friend looks genuinely terrified at the prospect of having to share a DOUBLE BED with a male friend.
Friend: “But…”
Me: “But what?”
Friend: “…”
Me: “Oh, come on, mate. It’s one night. What are you afraid of? Sharing a bed with your male friend isn’t going to turn you gay, you know!”
Friend: *Panicking* “Don’t say stuff like that!”
We went down to dinner and my friend seemed more nervous and on-edge than usual; he always was highly strung. Back in the room, I lay on the bed to watch TV while my friend sat awkwardly in a chair. When bedtime arrived, he squirmed as I climbed into my side of the bed, and then he rolled over and tried to get as far away from me as possible. He was being ridiculous.
We both ended up sleeping very well, and my friend survived his “ordeal” with no “damage” to his sexuality. We had a great time in London and arrived home safe and sound. To this day, I still feel his response to sharing a bed with me was an overreaction. Am I right?