Would you like some gay with that?

The other day Q and I decided to stop in the local flower shop to get some, well, flowers for the house. Actually, it was his idea.

"What kind of flowers were you thinking of?" I asked.

"I don't know," he replies "you're the artsy gay one who bought those vases in the first place."

"Really?" I shot back, "Well I wasn't the one talking the whole way down here about the fabulous fruit platters I used to make when throwing a party. All I remember thinking while you were talking was, that is the gayest thing I've ever heard. Fag."

"Whatever" was all he could come back with.

So I point to a bunch. "What about these?" I ask.

"Oh, you mean (insert name of flower here). Those are nice."

I begin to chuckle and select another bunch. "Do you like these ones?"

"Yeah, those (insert name of flower here) are nice too."

At that point I break out laughing at the man who was calling me gay, yet rhyming off the names of all the flowers in the shop. At that point the irony hits him.

"Hey! I can't help it! I used to work in my uncle's flower shop as a kid."

"Ya, right. How about we get some of these?"

"Those (insert name of flower here) are - goddamnit! Just grab them and let's go!"


I win.