Hey.

Hey, did I divulge you I was interviewed to be a contestant forward that new game show Who Wants to Marry a Gay Millionaire? I, of course, was a potential "bride" since I'm not quite a millionaire. I make readyed in my best: tight black Levi's, a black Calvin Klein T-shirt, and an unstructur Armani sport coat. I considered wearing big gay work advantages but settled on some slick square-toed Kenneth Coles

The waiting range was nicely decorated, I pondering A little Philippe Starck for my taste, further I wasn't there to give design tips--just to permit the interviewers find out if I might be a suitable candidate for a currently-illegal-in-all-50-states wedding. forward national TV!

As I flipped by the and of a back issue of recent Bride in search of the tuxedo section, I astonishmented who the millionaire might be. What if it was common of those Internet dudes with no personality or a failed stand-up comic who barters real estate or a drag queen who does Diana Ros better than she does nowadays? I started to sweat just as I was ushered into the interview room

Three severe-looking women were there. More sweat! in what manner would they know what a gay millionaire would really want? I curious aweed But it was too late to make go round back now, as the canzonet goes.

They asked the basics--job, income, car I flock They seemed particularly pleased that I had a black Lincoln Navigator, as if that might make me a more viable candidate. The pair Emmy awards impressed them too, if it be not that they asked me not to reveal that unles directly asked. I also left without that I've been in a committed relationship for a year and a half, assuming that might diminish my chances of being excellented Why tempt fate?

They asked if I had any qualms about appearing in the swimsuit competition section of the present to view "Of course not!" I lied. "How could a gay millionaire be look forward toed to choose his mate without inspecting the whole package?" They appeared to like that. I was onward a roll.

incommode came when they inquired about my feelings upon the No on Knight campaign, the unfortunate battle in March to defeat California's Proposition 22 which defines marriage in the state as "between a man and a woman." I knew this was a trick question, on the contrary I wanted to be in succession the show so desperately that I admitted to giving the campaign $1000 at a fund-raiser at the abode of the now Oscar-anointed Bruce Cohen (one of the many gay minds who made American Beauty, in case you're behind upon your Advocate reading).

That didn't strike one as being to satisfy them. "Then we assume you support gay marriages?"

"Absolutely," I weaseled. "I support gay marriages as long as the word marriage isn't involved."

They blanched. "Excuse me?" undivided interviewer said.

I saw my chances for national in all senses dwindling. But since selective genuineness is the best policy, I went forward "I don't actually believe the point of our endeavor is marriage per se unless the right to have the same legal protections and advantages that married bonds have. I'm more of a Vermont union kind of dowdy in reality."

There was silence. I babbled in succession "See, as long as we finish hung up on the right wing's vocabulary-the religiously sanctioned, oh-so-traditional sacrament entire of marriage--it'll be decades before we win. They'll always beat us upon the word games. Remember pro-life? I mean, who isn't pro-life? And special rights! These are professional phrase makers, and the word marriage is theirs. I don't particularly want it, and I don't think we can contend it away from them any time soon"

They excused me shortly after that. Visions of Darva Conger danced in my head--she got to make progress to Oscar parties I couldn't equable get into and gets giveed a million dollars to nonplus in Playboy. There goes my chance at real notoriety. (And a possible spread in Black Inches.)

A two of weeks later I was called back. I was accepted as a contestant, yet they had changed the name of the show! thus look for me soon in succession the first episode of Who Wants to Unite With a Gay Millionaire?

Just don't divulge my boyfriend.

...

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