Saying Too Little

Normally, I say too much.

Sometimes at work I become a running narrative of my work. I don’t know why, I just find myself so incredulous that I feel compelled to share. Or, at least, I’m too friendly and not straight.

But how dare I reduce this to a gay stereotype? Probably the same way anyone else would, but shouldn’t I be better than that? Maybe not. Lately, I’ve been enjoying stereotypes.

Just an hour ago, the client stepped in to ask what we were listening to on our headphones. I was listening to Raiatea Helm, a Hawai`ian beauty with incredible talent and skill. And the client immediately thought he knew what my co-worker was listening to based on his preconception of what/who my co-worker is.

I work with a Good Mormon Boy out here in the Valley of Silicon, and he is so very, excruciatingly Mormon. I just love how he doesn’t drink alcohol, has a fierce work ethic, and blindly obeys. How could you not love that? Really?

But I also love how GMB jokes about having an open relationship with his wife. How hilarious, stereotype-busting, and progressive of him! How obviously absurd - or not - and sexually subversive he is! How brazenly he doth simultaneously violate his stereotype and reinforce it! To him, I say, “You are the Mormon we need, with your compliance and sly nod to rebelliousness.”

I would like to slyly nod to rebelliousness, too, but I am not doing it. I, who say too much, am staying mum about certain things like wives. And where I hung out during the weekend…

And so I wonder which stereotypes I’m adhering to, here. Am I suddenly the eidos of mid-thirties professional closet cases? Or am I failing my stereotype as the shows-no-shame-gay-man with a sense of self? Is it shame, a lost opportunity, or just discretion?

I wonder if I am just not saying too much, or if this time I’m saying too little.