Saturday Bloody Saturday
Dear The Rexford Files,
My partner’s family is extremely difficult.
I am vegan. They enjoy meat.
Saturday dinner is smoked brisket, racks of ribs, every time an array of animal flesh.
And that’s fine. I don’t want to rock the gravy boat. I just want to fit in.
I always offer to bring a vegan option. Last time, I made fried green tomatoes.
My partner’s Dad’s response? “I already put up with the gay crap. I’m not putting up with anything else.”
You see my dilemma? I don’t eat meat! And they provide nothing else, save for cornbread and tapioca pudding.
I am expected to always maintain a placid, pleasant demeanor.
My partner never says a word. Why doesn’t he stand up for me?
I’m starting to think I’m in the wrong relationship.
Signed,
Same Awful Dinner, Cornbread And Tapioca
Dear SAD CAT,
In my early days, I worked for a time at the █████ Circus.
It was a vile place, cutthroat and cruel. Insincere and unethical.
It was also an amazing steppingstone for career advancement. The █████ Circus launched many acts of acclaim.
I was but a minor player, generally speaking, except for this: I also served as Ringmaster Understudy. A coveted spot for someone of my status.
My time at the █████ Circus, however, proved brief; I could not sanction the goings-on under their noses and under their thumb.
And thus I catapulted myself into a different land: the world of retail, of big-box shopping centers, of a salaried position as Asst Mgr (second shift).
Many nights I took off my name badge and store-logo polo and cried myself to sleep.
Today? I am the ringmaster of the finest organization in the industry, a circus I am proud to represent.
The moral to this real-life fable? You can draw your own conclusions.
Just know that cornbread tastes magnificent when you hold your head high.
Counterpoint commentary by …
Wyatt Aussome & His Aussome Hogs
I officially came out five years ago.
Toughest thing I’ve ever done.
Spoiler alert: The Aussome Family is pretty un-awesome.
Wasn’t really surprised. I was always the oddball. To them, anything outside the norm is outside their understanding.
I guess that’s why I love my hogs. They never judge my choices.
My family and I went low contact. I drifted away and joined the circus.
Our ringmaster says we’re a family, and that honestly helps fill the un-awesome gaps in my heart.
But a work-family, special as it may be, is a construct. It’s not intrinsic. You know?
In reality, it’s just me and my hogs.
Feels pretty scary some days.
But it still sounds better’n that bigotry buffet you’re being served.
Those people might be your family someday, have you thought of that?
There is nothing worse than feeling alone within a family. Forever an outsider.
Maybe your partner feels that way, too?
The time sounds right to start having your own Saturday dinners. With a menu all of your choosing.
Any place with no place for fried green tomatoes is highly unlikely to offer you a rosy future.
