Made a new acquaintance this week, some young person new to the cafe. Joined in our conversation at our table. Telling us about their hobbies and stuff they’re into. Great.
Another friend joined us after a few minutes, and in the spirit of good will, I sought to catch her up on our new friend. I said, “So, this is <name> and she’s into art and–” And then immediately our new friend busted in and told us that she identifies with the “they” and “them” pronouns. Fine. Whatever. Story disrupted by protocol.
I remember being a highly-principled kid. Every other month, I tried to redefine myself. I had my blessed golden rules, and by God I stood by them, no matter what the cost.
The depth of my fervor for the cause had no bottom. But I kept pushing for it, to be that thorn in everybody’s side until all Truth was out, until all lies were exposed, until everything was brought to glory light. Even if it meant disrupting the flow of a normal event and making a scene.
Witness this case: during an evening of movie-watching at a friend’s apartment in college, in the darkest of my Bible-thumping nights, with a room full of friends and acquaintances sitting in the light of a flickering screen, I set myself to task to emit a small sub-audible whistle every time I heard profanity in the movie. I don’t remember what we watched, but with every fuckingÂ (wheet) little blue word in the damned (wheet) dialog, I just made this shitty (wheet) little sound, and instantly I placed my own principles directly in front of the desire of everyone in the room to enjoy a piece of fiction in a communal setting.
I was that kind of asshole.
So I get it. “She” is actually “they” and “them”. Fine. I’m actually an advocate for people who redefine their sexual identity. But this news was put to me with bad timing. If they had let me know at a better time, with better lead-up and a dialog about what it is they’re trying to do, then yeah, it would’ve gone better. But they simply lost all points for style.
I wish them the best.