It's funny how people can say the nastiest things and have the sweetest looks on their faces.
The subject in question was the issue of gay marriage. The person offering me their "final solution"-style opinion was the president of the theater group for whom I'm directing Jekyll and Hyde.
Now, keep in mind, this guy is 50 years old, has never been married, and has never, to the best of my knowledge, had a girlfriend. So in terms of sexual ambiguity, he's a prime candidate for "coming soon out from closet near you." Maybe that's why he was being so vehement, I don't know. Da man has something to prove. Or at least, to deny.
Still, it upset me. It was really the first time in a long time that I had heard something that nasty being said about the subject (with the exception of a very unpleasant incident with Jon in January, and that was more or less hostile through what wasn't spoken, rather than what was said).
It's funny, because I had heard things like this on several occasions in my past life, but I honestly hadn't given them much thought. I would usually just laugh and change the subject. But in this life? How should I react? Should I lay into the guy?
It was something of a political dilemma. This was the president of the group, my set designer for the play, a featured performer in the show (Utterson), and someone who I would be relying upon heavily in the next few months. To alienate him now would make my life very difficult.
Fortunately, my musical director Tony, who was sitting at the end of the table looking very artistic in a black beret and long flowing scarf covered in musical notes (which, coupled with his huge bushy beard, made him resemble Pavarotti--an intentional resemblance, I'm sure), started going on about his thoughts on the difference between civil unions and gay marriage.
Even so, I felt compelled to say something.
"Well, I'm definitely for civil unions," I said to Tony.
"Oh, really?" asked Tony mischievously. "Are you proposing to me right here?"
"That's it, Maestro," I replied. "Right here and now. Let's get under this table and get on with the honeymoon."
"Hmmm," said Tony, lifting the tablecloth to glance under the table. "There's not much room under there."
"No problem," I replied, looking right at Pete. "I like it tight."
I just couldn't do anything too blatant, but I wanted to send a signal. It wouldn't have been politically wise. I don't know, do you think I copped out? It still is weighing on my mind.