Chaunce

Chaunce

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I’M NOT GAY…. not that there’s anything wrong with that
I moved to Jersey City 3 years ago after selling my white picket fence home in extraordinarily white, middle class Glen Rock, New Jersey. Newly single and middle-aged, the change in lifestyle was shocking to say the least. Overnight I dove into a pot of black, Indian, Asian, Latin and every other ethnic shade you can imagine. To use the cliché, “deer caught in the headlights” is an understatement. I was use to mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutters, fixing wall cracks and of course lots and lots of mulching. But those days were over and in its place was a ocean of bars, booze and dates.

Sounds like fun and trust me it has been a lot of fun. I could write a book on bat shit crazy living. However, something I never expected or experienced before has entered into my life and it needs to be addressed.

Listen, I’m Irish and I love to drink (Is that okay to say?). Absolutely love it. My dad loved it, my grandfather loved it and I’m told my great grandfather loved it. It’s a Hayden thing. We drink. Unfortunately my boozing comfort zone has been rocked by a recent change in bar chatter. Over the past few months I’ve shared cocktails with several cultural diverse women of all shapes, ages and sizes. While each of these women may be unique in their own special way, they all share one thing in common… they all seem to think I’m gay.

What the fuck!

How and why this has become an issue I don’t really know. I have no problem with the way anyone chooses to live their life. Gay, straight or transgender: It’s all okay by me. Live and let live. But one problem….I’m not gay! So why are these women suggesting otherwise? At night I lay in an Ambien induced semi-coma wondering what have I done to give the impression that I suddenly like to play on the same side of the fence. I got nothing.
My need to know the truth has become an obsession in recent weeks. Why do women think I’m gay? What do I do that gives off that vibe? Is it the way I talk? Could it be the way I walk? Is it my face? My personality? What makes women think I’m gay? … and by the way, I’M NOT GAY!

I’ve asked around and here are some of the reasons I’ve been told:
1. I have an ever so slight lisp. I literally had to look up “lisp” in the dictionary. In my defense, I grew up in a house with New York and Jamaican accents. So whatever that does to a child is what it does. Call it what you want, but it’s not gay!
2. I talk too much with my hands. Indeed, I have started to use my hands like an old Italian mother. But it’s how my brain gets it’s point across. Like a politician banging on the podium or in my case, like banging my head against a wall.
3. I’m too nice. Listen, I may be a lot of things, but I’m not too nice. I hate everyone! I swear I do. If it breaths I hate it. Don’t let my warm smile and kind words fool you for one second. If you’re reading this I probably hate you.
4. I’m single with very pale skin and a ginger persona minus the hair. Yes, I am single, but not by choice. I do have very fair skin, but not by choice. I did have red hair and I did go bald, but not by choice. Enough said.

Apparently, these are the main reasons why women I meet assume I’m gay. So for future reference:
1. I have an accent, not a lisp
2. The only hand action you will see in the future is my middle finger.
3. See two.
4. Life sucks, what can I tell ya.

Cheers,

Chaunce Hayden
Publisher / 201-873-3874 – #Chauncehayden
Chaunce@metnights.com – @Chauncehayden

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