Don't Cross The Bitter Queen

Straight society has Emily Post, Dear Abby, Judith Martin, and, here in the Northwest, the Uptight Seattleite. The culture is more jammed with manners experts than a West Hollywood gym is tight with spandexed monkey jewels.

So it’s long past time for gay etiquette. Unbeknownst to this rude, crude, and socially unacceptable rubefest, high gay culture is the very apex of civil decorum. But we shouldn't settle for any old snob, advising a better way to dry hump the dinner guests one by one behind the armoire.

The queer Ms. Man(ners) would be more edgy than the norm. The gay sensibility, after all, is more than just polite restraint in the middle of a bulimic’s twelve course dinner party. Besides delivering advice, he would give hetero society the public spanking it so richly deserves. But you can't just turn hets over and whip their behinds to a candy apple red. So a verbal thrashing is the next best thing.

Unfortunately, the average sports fan doesn’t know what's good for him. And precious few will have the sense to write in asking for advice in taste and manners. So letters will have to be manufactured. That shouldn’t be a problem, though. It’s easy to spot the many vulgarities for which hetero culture should beg forgiveness. And this particular Ms. Man(ners) - oh pease smile on me intractable publishing elite - would have no trouble writing letters and answering them in one fell swoop. To wit:

Dear Ms. Man(ners)

I can’t find a barber to save my life. I always turn up at a hair salon where the stylists act like a Madonna video. This is really starting to piss me off. What gives?

Mr. Tough

Dear Mr.,

Gay men often work in the service sector because, unlike the general public, queers usually have a kind streak a mile wide. But our patience is not infinite, and before throwing attitude at the hair technician generously agreeing to handle your mop, think about what life will be like in the rest home, when the gay orderly has to hoist your giant ass onto the can for the umpteenth time. You won’t be so tough when they find you wedged behind the potty with a roll of three ply stuck up your butt.

Dear Ms. Man(ners),

I don’t mind gay people. Just don’t force it on me.

Cool Hand Luke

Dear Luke,

Time out while Miss Man(ners)’s boiling blood of rage falls to a simmer.
First, I totally agree. You should not have to fend off passes from horned out leather queens in the linen section of Bloomingdales. Much as I should not have to witness a hetero lip lock every three seconds on network television. But unless you’re dressed in a harness with cuffs, that shouldn’t be a problem. Try to keep some perspective.

Dear Ms. Man(ners),

My wife is thinking of a vacation in San Francisco. But I’m worried that the alien culture will keep me from having a good time.

Star Trek Rules

Dear Trekker,

Understood. Beautifully painted Victorians, excellent food, vast vistas, and urbane civility can be quite foreign. Normally I would advise staying under the Bridge near the Palace of Fine Arts. If you’re really worried, though, there’s always Miami. I hear the summer temperatures are only a hundred and thirty. Don’t forget the inhaler and medic alert bracelets.