“It’s not that I don’t like gay people,” Weird Bob said as I opened my door this morning.
“Most of them are okay. It’s just the over the top, flaming variety I can’t abide, mincing about everywhere, flaunting it, forcing you to look, like they’re trying to ram it down yer throat...”
A shopping bag containing a
baguette dangled from his hand.
"...I...I went to the shops," he motioned vaguely in the direction of
the shops with is free hand. "Only I forgot to put my
trooze on..."
It was true, he stood before me, completely
without trousers.
Weird Bob chuckled gently to himself and shook
his head.
After the briefest of uncertain pauses,
he drifted uncertainly upstairs.
