His phone was blowing up. He was giggling.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"Do you think all gay jokes are bad?" he responded.
Uh? "Not sure how to answer that."
He and three of his buddies were trying to organize a big family camping trip. They couldn't coordinate schedules.
Finally, they found a weekend everyone could do it. Except one guy.
The punchline?
"Tell him it's homo week, and maybe he can make it."
I was more saddened than offended. More disappointed than surprised. More curious than angry.
"No, I don't find that funny. I guess I'm just more aware – "
"Dude, you gotta stop saying that!"
This was my best friend. Who knew that my dad was gay and died of AIDS.
Who knew enough to ask me if I thought all gay jokes were bad.
But not enough to know any joke that marginalizes and stigmatizes being gay as the butt of the joke is also bad.
Who knows that guys who go around looking for faggots to bash their heads in and tie them to fence posts are bad.
But doesn't know that guys who make gay jokes as part of casual banter are also bad.
This kind of othering happens all the time. It's all bad. Every single time.
Good people have the courage to step in and say something. I chose to end this friendship.
I guess I won't be invited on the next family camping trip.