On my way back to town from work I ended up in a mall in an awful town on the German border. My reason for being there? It had a D&G store, as well as an Armani shop.
I was looking for a shirt, some shoes and maybe a belt, and was hoping to find something good over there.
It was cold and wet, a generally nasty day to spend outside. The town looked grim, the mall was practically deserted, only a few of those work-shy Germans enjoying one of their huge number of days off.
First of all, I was pissed off to find it was paid parking. At a mall. On an industrial estate. I had no change, so I drove off and parked somewhere else. Of course, the moment I got out it started drizzling. This is the story of Dutch autumns; neither warm nor very cold, overcast and constant drizzle.
So what was supposed to be enjoyable wasn't at all. I found the D&G store, and instantly discovered two things. For one, I was in homo heaven. Secondly, I was the least gay guy there, and boy did the queens make me feel inferior.
A quick gaydar sweep returned the following results:
Fashion queens, species Dutch: 3, including the manager
Fashion queens, German: 2
Overdressed, bitchy women: 2
In the end, I selected a t-shirt and went to pay. This is where they tried to put me in my place. I was found wanting, the "straight" invader in a superior gay culture, an alien buying just a t-shirt and not a complete outfit.
Thy made me wait, and helped the German queens before me, even though I was first in line.
I considered ditching my t-shirt and walking out, but as a matter of fact I was laughing inside. The situation was hilarious: I was the victim of homo solidarity.
I considered a loud coming out, but finally decided against it. Too theatrical. I paid up, speaking in my southern dialect, to make it clear I was not German, and being decidedly unfriendly, I walked out.
Still gotta go back for some shoes though.