Lesbian or midwest?
Does that haircut say she likes women or is she just from Ohio?
Gay or just a straight guy from San Francisco?
And one close to home, inspired by my mother:
Retarded or southern?
Why is she asking these moronic questions? Why is she saying these idiotic things?
Is she mentally challenged or just from Texas?
My mother asks questions I can never answer. Like, "Do you still just love New York?"
As if at any point I walk in a state of constant love, especially in New York. Oh yes, when I step over that garbage and the rat runs across my foot, that's when I twirl down the street and throw my beret in the air, wand sing Frank Sinatra.
One of my favorite of her questions, when we're having a meal: "Taste good to you?" What, you mean the barf coming up my throat now that you said that statement?
My mother gets way too excited about things. "I met this man who has son who you may want to meet." Lie she's about to break out into, "And what I'm trying to say, sugar, is it's a man. A real live man. A man, mama? Thank the Lord. Especially since the war is on and all the menfolk have been shipped off."
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