gaydar, southern black woman and women in the men's room ...

well, my gaydar went off today ... more on that in a few, however. i first have to start off by saying that gaydar is apparently not limited to people of the faganese persuasion. this morning i was totally called out and it was quite funny how it happened, actually.

i work with a woman, we're going to refer to her as southern black woman or sbw. well, sbw stopped by my desk this morning at about 7:15 am and informed me she had a present for me. she produced this bottle of "vege," i think it's called and what it is is a vegetable juice purchased from whole foods. it has about 10 different vegetables in it and has 200% or vitamins a & c and earlier in the week i had commented on it while sbw was walking around with it. since we apparently shared a love for vegetable juice, she decided to pick one up for me and let me try it. it was very sweet of her. well, topics of veggie juice turned to dining and ultimately southern cooking and wines and deserts and we must have chatter for about 45 minutes before we finally settled in to work. as i turned to my computer to begin browsing our sharepoint for provider issues to resolve, i hear this tiny little knock on my cube and i turn to see sbw standing there. she gestures to her hair:

sbw: i gotta get patti labelle under control, child! ::and she begins to run to the bathroom. i'm laughing hysterically at this for her hair, in fact, had a very labelle-esque upswing::

she comes back a few seconds later and throws me a smirk.

sbw: this ain't no coming out, party, honey ... this is work! ::she winks::

she knows. at least i'm pretty sure she knows, but i'm not worried about that. no. no ... i'm currently at conflict as i'm not sure whether to point out that diana ross is the one who sang "i'm coming out." i don't. but, apparently her and i have a lunch date next week at some mexican joint down the road from where we work. that should be fun.

ok, now back to my gaydar. let me set the scene.

i was at my desk, minding my own business when i felt this buzzing at the base of my skull. i know this feeling ... my gay sense is tingling. i push back from my desk and stand up and walk to the water cooler when i spot him ... mr. gay #2. he's a nice looking man, dresses sharply and smiles a lot. it's very endearing. now, throughout the day i noticed him making frequent trips past my cubicle and finally at one point, when i was getting some papers from the printer, he comes over to me.

mr. gay #2: what is your name? i tried to see if you had a nameplate yet, but you don't.
me: oh, i wasn't born with a name. i'm nameless ... everyone just calls me 'hey you.'
mr. gay #2: ::laughs::
me: i'm geoff.
mr. gay #2: oh, i'm [name].
me: nice to meet you. ::i smile::
mr. gay #2: nice to meet you too, geoff, but i'm going to call you 'nameless' from now on.

and sure enough, throughout the rest of the day, he'd smile and call me nameless. i want to stab him. just kidding.

ok, so today i also found the office freak. there's this woman, she's got to be in her late 50's to early 60's, who i spied coming out of the men's room. odd. later, she was outside when i went out and, being the gentleman that i am, i said hello. now, i expected her voice to be this raspy, 100-year-old smoker's voice, but instead it sounded like a munchkin from 'the wizard of oz.' it was very freaky. later, mr. gay #2 and i were conferring and apparently she uses the men's room quite frequently. maybe she's really a dude. i just think she likes to poop in our room. who knows? but i thought i'd share that little gem of office freakishness. fun!