The Cure

“There is a cure for homosexuality.”

“Huh?”

I turn around to see a huge trannie garbed in a pink tutu complete with Victoria’s Secret wings and a fur wand. Confetti started to rain out of nowhere.

“I’m your fairygay mother.”

“Right.”

“Seriously. All those years of self-doubt and questioning- I was there baby, I heard them all.”

“To what do I owe this visit?”

“Didn’t you know there was a cure already? I can turn you straight as an arrow with a flick of my wand.” She says, doing a pas de bourrée for emphasis.

I’ve got to hand it to her, the 200 pound lard certainly can dance.

“You can do that?” I sat up, interested.

She sashays back and forth the room, stops in the middle and twirls her wand. Tiny flecks of light surround the tip. “Yes, yes of course.”

“Imagine, life without ridicule. No staring and pointing when you hold hands on a date. You can get married legally, have kids and a wife. Juuuust perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, sweetie. Why the long face?” She bats her purple fake lashes and gestures.

“It does sound tempting.”

“There are a few conditions though.”

“Like?”

“First off, you won’t be able to write or do watercolors anymore. Or any of that art stuff.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why not?”

“You wrote primarily to vent your feelings. Same goes with your art. No oppression, no inspiration. Besides, your right brain will be less developed. You’ll be better at math though.”

“Ridiculous, straight men can still do those things. What’s the next condition?”

“You’ll get pimples and you’ll get a little chubby.”

My eyes widen. “How come?”

“Well, you won’t be as obsessed about beauty anymore so you are likely to neglect your skin. Say bye-bye to Clinique and Clearasil. And oh, once you get a girlfriend you won’t watch what you eat and just neglect your body.”

“Eww.”

“But if you are straight, your looks wouldn’t be top priority, especially if you already have settled down.”

“Any more horrendous conditions for me?”

“Yes, the last one.” She says seriously, sitting beside me.

“Remember Eric? Larry? Or that guy you are dating these days? You’ll lose all your memories. Your first kiss, first date, the first time you said I love you, and all the good and bad stuff. Gone, nada.”

‘That’s a high price to pay.”

“Even in exchange for a normal life?”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

“So what’s the deal then?”

I pick up a handful of the confetti and let them fall to the floor slowly.

“I think I’ll pass.” I said.