last summer
At Kathy’s house, in her living room, drunkenly singing karaoke with a few friends. We are waiting for scores to come up, because the machine tallies points based on singing ability. I have been singing with a male friend, and we are holding hands while waiting desperately, hoping we’ve won, and I realize suddenly how starved I am for attention: I am getting turned on from holding hands with a gay guy. I drop his hand and feel shamed.
