In a crowded restaurant near my gate in the SF airport, I sat at a lowered part of the bar that is used mostly by staff and perfect for me. I ordered a double shot Bulleit whiskey neat with a club soda on the side; bubbles keep you alive, you know.
The preppy dressed white boy, younger than me, with blond hair and bright pink cheeks had to hand my drinks to me, because I am just that short. I thanked him each time. As he handed me the whiskey, he complimented me on my “manly drink” to which I thought “bitch, please I could fuck anyone better than you – my masculinity is cool.” He looked particularly capitalist in leaning, so I asked if he was a lawyer. No, financial blah blah blah. Same difference to me. He bragged about his “x figures” income. I rolled my eyes and asked if he was an Aries. BOOM, I was right on first guess. He then got a little more vulnerable with me by dropping a portion of his bravado -maybe, hopefully, because he thought I was a witch- so he opened up about his marriage ending recently.
Poor dude just found out after being together for 8 years, married only a few, this his wife was more into women than men and identifies as a lesbian. I cannot cry for white male fragility (I tried once on an a long plane ride and nope, my tear ducts were dry as a bone despite watching his tears tumble down his cheeks) but I felt empathy for Aries dude. I encouraged him to remember sexuality is fluid and she could have been down with him in the beginning and for awhile even. But damn, he needs to wake the fuck up before he gets into another relationship. I told him to consider not buying property again with another partner until he figured out if they were going to be playing on similar teams for a bit of time or if he is up to move along with his partner. His retort was how he was doing some flipping of their house and would make them both money selling their house in the end, of course he would and of course I needed to hear that.
Ultimately, the point of my sexologist talk was to get the dude to try to pay attention to his spouse. No one should be able to live over a year with someone without knowing they are turning away from them as a spouse and are indeed not interested in their gender.
The dude seemed like he was wowed, which is a magical exchange to have with an Aries boy. Generally, I feel the need to rhetorically choke little Aries boys because they make my masculinity flare like an angry cat’s fur. I always feel the need to show dominance; I know this is ridiculous, and that neither of us really care. As an aside: it is well worth noting that I had to be convinced by an Aries sexologist married to an Aries to go out with my wife (an Aries) because I have such birthday bigotry for all genders born under the Aries sun. Turns out it is just Aries white bros that get under my skin! Yay!
I bet that this was a story for the Aries to tell, most likely presented as a joke (but internally serious), around the water cooler with his Long Island capitalist bro-friends. I am pretty sure MANY people who encounter me in liminal social spaces, like the airports and long-distance trains, go home with stories of a strange little queer white woman in a wheelchair and her little black dog.