women on planes, part two

on my return flight direct from kc to oakland, i was boardin kinda late so i knew i'd be stuck in the middle seat. i noticed a seat open between two elderly black women in aisle 2. well, might as well sit up close, and boy howdee if it wasn't with my people. now i know i'm a young white male, but in another life, as i've mentioned many a time on here, in another life i was an elderly black woman. so i felt right at home. i introduced myself. their names were mrs. vance and mrs. robinson. they were probably in their 70's or 80's, thin as rails, kept their coats covered tightly around them the whole trip, proper hats adorning them heads, recognized clean ice in their water cups when they tasted it, and knew right when to stop drinking fer it was to cause them to have to get up for the bathroom. mrs. vance was the talker of the two. mrs. robinson kept tellin her to keep quiet. but mrs. vance gabbed with me fer a long time. we chatted, slept off and on, and swapped candies just like we swapped stories of our trips. they had gone off to atlanta and oklahoma to visit relatives of all sorts, but they were finally headin back home to oakland. where they could rest. and rest they would fer a couple days after all this trouble.

we gabbed and gabbed. mrs. vance's ear started hurtin her awful just at the same time mine was and i offered her some gum to help with the pain. she declined as she didn't have no teeth no more. i felt bad for mentioning the gum. but she just laughed and laughed and patted me on the back while i rested a little. yes she did. we were awful close nearin the end of the flight.

well, sir, here's the awkward part of this here story. nearin' the end of the flight she says to me, "you married?" now i didn't hear her exactly, i thought she was asking for 'mary.' ironic. anyhoo, she says, "you got yourself a wife?" "oh, well, no." and then i demurred. and demurred. and wishing and hoping the subject would turn.

pause
now it's not like i'm not out. and it's not like i haven't come out a million times. and it's not like i'm afraid to come out to anybody anytime, and have done so. so there. but, for the life of me, this was a doozy. i'd had such a good time with her. and we felt close. and we were about to leave. and she was so elderly and frail. and 'gay' seemed so modern and strange for this setting. and i was an old black woman too. ok, well, maybe not, but there went my alias. dang. dangit. i really just wanted the conversation to change. but she wouldn't let it.

"well, what's holding you back son?!"
i demurred.
"you're a handsome young man and i'm sure there's a mighty lot of young women out there who'd go for you. what's holding you back? you nervous?"
"um, well, i'm gay." that was harder than it really should have been. but, well, it was time for reality. and i wasn't gonna go back to no closet. even for nicities.
"oh, no you're not, i don't believe it!"
"well, yeah, i am."
"i don't believe it. no, i just don't believe that."
"ok, well, anyway."

conversations changed briefly. a little later she says, "you're gay?" i said, "yep." "i just don't believe that."

the plane lands, the flight is over. i did have me a nice trip with them. i'd love to meet mrs. vance again someday. she had the bestest smile with high and mighty cheekbones barely covered by her frail skin. and she could talk up a storm. i'm sure she'd led a fascinatin life. and her family sounded awful nice. maybe one day i'll have me some dinner with them. but, in reality, i know that my brief turn as an elderly black woman who suddenly turned gay young white man has run its course, and now i give my goodbyes and they give theirs and we part our ways as she waits for her wheelchair to arrive.

after these episodes on planes and the heterosexual world, i'm ready to get back to my normal life in san francisco now. 'normal life in san francisco'? whodathunk?