Bear Soup

John called me.
We have been a bit “on the outs” lately because I decided to spread an internet rumor about him. I wanted to tell everyone that he is sterile and he got super mad and told me that he was extremely virile and was going to impregnate me to prove it. Rude.

But then we made up and now we call each other all the time again.
John told me that he was going to a friend’s party and that they were going to make Bear Soup.
“What’s that?” I asked. And he told me that Bear Soup was when a bunch of Gay Men of Size, who are known as Bears in the community, get into a hot tub. Then he said that someone walks by with a spoon and takes a sip, but I’m sure that he just said that to encourage my gag reflex since I am trying to lose weight.
“That is so disgusting,” I told him. One of my New Year’s Resolutions was to become more judgmental of “alternative lifestyles” and I’d been falling behind a bit. (But don’t worry, Quakers are next on my list.)
“You are so closed-minded,” he accused me. “What could be more wholesome?”
“I’m going to tell mama about this,” I said.
“Don’t tell mama,” he said. His point was that mama wouldn’t even know what bears were, so I’d have to explain it to her and then spring the whole soup aspect on top of it. It was too much all at once.
“Okay,” I negotiated. “I’ll tell mama about Bears today and then about Bear Soup tomorrow. This way, she’ll have a day to process it.”

John agreed and I called mama.
I told her everything at once, because mama can handle it and I’m really bad at deferred gratification.
“Don’t call me with this thing again,” she told me. “That is repulsion in extreme.”
“I’m not sure that someone actually takes a sip. I think John made that up.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m in my sixties, I’m not a young girl,” mama cried. “There is limit to disgusting at my age.”

Which is why I will not share this entry from Urban Dictionary with mama. But I’m sharing it with you. Because you like to learn.

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One year ago ...

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