The Pink Elephant

Like I once said, the hallmark of Fabulous Felix - especially in such a staid little town - is how shockingly fabulous he can be, even with the astonished stares of the disapproving locals. Swear when the boy speaks, little glittery handbags, flashy disco balls and several rainbow unicorns fall out.

Super stereotypically gay for sure.

Compared to him, even I can almost pass for one of the dull unexceptional regular joes in ironed khakis. Which I find refreshing since most of the closeted gay brethren here have so many irrationally homophobic hang-ups that it can get quite exhausting.

But even with the flashing neon sparklers on his head screaming G.A.Y., there are some of his more obtuse colleagues who still blithely ignore the obvious. Despite that giant pink elephant prancing around the room drinking pink daiquiris.

Mimi : You're still single, Felix? But you're so cute and eligible.
Felix : That I am! Yay me!
Mimi : Impossible! I must hook you up!
Felix : Definitely, send my number around. Make sure they're cute. 
Mimi : What kinda girl are you looking for? 
Felix : Girl?
Mimi : Yeah, I know lots of lovely single girls. 
Felix : So do I, honey. And I don't do any of the lovelies. Felix doesn't do girls. 
Mimi : You don't? Did someone hurt you in the past?
Felix : No, it's called being gay. 
Mimi : Happy? 

All that after oblivious Mimi took a brief tour around Felix's raunchy boudoir replete with exotic dildos, racy thongs and sticky gay porn mags.

Mimi : Like is that phallic object a piece of modern art?
Felix : It's a dildo.
Mimi : Umm.. is that like African art?

And amazingly ( or amusingly ) that's not the first time it has happened. Homosexuals must be a rare species indeed - despite what our paranoid government must think - if even slick city professionals can't even begin to guess. Obviously the purported gay guidelines don't work very well.