Sushi Assumption

Jason DeWitt knows more about gays than even most gays do. Not more than my own personal vast knowledge, mind you, but certainly much more than even you can fathom of your very own lifestyle, kind reader. And as much as such acumen should presumeably put this scholar-of-sass in my good graces, no such friendship exists.

For one, Jason DeWitt uses his knowledge for evil. He writes for a horrid magazine (name witheld) designed to coax heterosexuals from their stylistic coccoon transforming them into metrosexual butterflies. He's also a Chelsea real estate maven, known for charming drooling dandies with his "str8-boi" allure. Ick!

Secondly, Jason claims to be the love child of his gay father (who raised him) and Joyce DeWitt from television's Three's Company. At the age of sixteen he legally changed his last name to DeWitt in honor of the mother he's never met.

And lastly, Jason himself is heterosexual! Not that there is anything wrong with that...

It is here that I am presented in bold-faced font a quirky quandry regarding the recent infatuation of my onetime arch-nemisis Michaud, who is now declaring his heterosexuality (and even dating an actual woman), versus my confirmed disklike of Jason DeWitt, longtime heterosexual and boorish expert on gays and our secrets, a pansy-Prometheus bringing "flame" to the unwashed straight men of New York.

And the most pathetic thing is how so totally over the entire metrosexual craze is. Everyone knows it. Even the "Fab Five" know it. Six months ago I ran into Jai Rodriguez at a theatre gala honoring Broadway's Animal Actors. I jeered at Jai, "Your show is a fraud and you suck worse than Carson's plastic surgery!" The young man broke down into tears and fled the reception just as A Tribute to Toto began.

Where was I? Oh, so today I was anticipating sushi at Chelsea's hottest new raw fish bar, Sushi: Wow-Wow-Wow, when in sashays none other than Jason DeWitt, with a neatly coifed, metrosexual friend. The lunch line at Sushi:Wow-Wow-Wow forms a horseshoe and as I was ahead of him, I waited to exchange civilities once we were standing closer together in queue.

No such pleasantries would be forthcoming as Jason made the grossest generalization of gay people that ever I've heard him utter or read him written... something like that.

In his typical know-it-all manner, he says loudly to his friend, "...so the guy says that his life partner was supposed to get paid, then he'd be able to afford the broker's fee. You see. He said life partner, so that means he's gay."

Jason's friend nodded solemnly at his sage wisdom. Jason continued, "But then this guy calls back and says that his life partner stole his checkbook and then he calls again to say his life partner kicked him out of their apartment!"

He paused before tossing in the punchline, "If you ask me this guy needs to kick his meth habit!" Then he and his buddy shared a straight-boy belly laugh and began looking at the menu.

Meth habit? How dare that moron make such a disgusting generalization. Just because his real estate applicant is a gay man does not automatically mean he has a meth habit! It's outrageous! I couldn't even look Jason in the eye. I couldn't even stand in line. I was trembling with outrage! My Sushi: Wow-Wow-Wow! turned into Sushi: Growl-Growl-Growl!

Worry not my cherished friends. I have been practicing wonderful deep breathing excercises and within one hour (and six bourbons) I found the centered calm Mr. Presumptious had robbed me of. But I couldn't stop thinking of the gall with which Jason so nonchalantly offered that all gay men have crystal meth habits. This led me to think of my own crystal meth habit

Actually, if I had a tooth for each of my gay friends struggling with their own meth addictions I'd grin like a Chelsea Cheshire Cat. Sadly, I have no teeth as "meth mouth" crumbled my chompers into gnarly little stumps months ago.

It makes no difference! I may have no teeth. Perhaps I haven't slept in eight days. And there is the delicate subject of the two apartments (laboratories) I've burned to the ground, but that don't mean you have any right to grossly generalize me or my kind! Were Jason's applicant Hispanic would he so freely boast, "He's poor cause he's sending all the money home to Mexico! Har-Har!"

Were the applicant African-American, "Needs to stop buying scratch-offs and invest in some flood insurance! Har-Har!"

No! He'd say none of those things because they are crass, indecent declarations. Oh Jason DeWitt, tremble in your "bear-chic" boots. You have attracted the ire of Gayest Neil, and trust me, this dandy has alot of waking time to plot your demise. I'm talking alot of waking time!