Last Thursday, I shared a 2 hour car ride to Long Island* with three straight guys; one was a (new) co-worker, the other was his brother-in-law and the 3rd a mutual friend of theirs. Don’t get me wrong, I was mad lucky that the brother-in-law worked close by and offered to pick us up. The two hour car ride, though, was spent with the three of them talking ‘sport’. Now, please don’t misunderstand: I am eternally grateful that I got the ride (and thanked the driver profusely). Had I not been with my co-worker, I’d have been totally screwed; I would’ve had to wait until the trains ran again at 11:30, since I don’t know how else to get to LI from DT Brooklyn. I’m also not complaining that I couldn’t join in the conversation; I was the odd man out. I don’t need to talk and actually am okay with being silent while other people talk around me; I was fine not engaging in the ball related chit-chat.
The thing is, though, if I was stuck in traffic with CawfeeMate or (just about) anyone else, I’d have whipped out my knitting and worked on my glove in the back seat. I didn’t, though. I sat there and caught up on my Words With Friends games, updated Facebook, texted with CawfeeMate about our progress and did everything but knit. See: I was embarrassed to knit in the presence of three straight guys, two of whom may or may not have known that I was gay (but probably would’ve assumed, just the same). I don’t know what I expected to happen, since I knit everywhere (on the train, bus, ferry, planes, doctor’s offices, park benches, the sidewalk, etc.) for almost 2 years and have never been heckled or teased, by anyone, about it. I always assumed that the reason for that was New Yorkers’ ability to block out things that are unusual: the bum yodeling on the street corner, the pre-op tranny hooker passed out on the 6 train with her balls hanging below her hemline, etc.
In the car, though, I wasn’t invisible; the straight guys could see me and talk to me and I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready to face (what I imagined to be) judgment about a guy knitting; I hated the idea of perpetuating a stereotype.
So, instead, I hid; and now, a week later, I’m still feeling sheepish about it.
In retrospect, they probably wouldn’t have batted an eye about it; all three seemed really, really nice. It was probably all in my head. It’s just so difficult trying to get away from that voice of irrational caution, when it’s in your head. It's the same voice that makes me pause before going into small local yarn shops (for fear that the proprietress will tell me that men aren't welcome in her Women Only Space) and before reaching for CawfeeMate's hand while we're out (for fear of being jumped by gay bashing thugs). Though neither has ever happened to me, i still pause.
In this situation, i didn't just pause, i stopped cold; now i'm kicking myself.
*the huz and I had plans to head out to Long Island for this girl’s wedding rehearsal dinner. The initial plan was for him to him to pick me up, at my office in downtown Brooklyn and we’d hit the road, drop the puppy at my in-laws and make it by 8pm. The whole trip shouldn’t take more than 2 hours; we’d have plenty of time. At around 3, he called me to let me know he was leaving work, had to pick up the puppy and our luggage, would leave Staten Island by 4 and would meet me. It struck me that he’d never get to me by 5 so I suggested that I could catch the LIRR and meet him on LI. He agreed that it was the best course of action and that the timing would work out perfectly. As luck would have it, a co-worker lives in a town not far from where I’d be getting off and suggested we travel together; this suited me fine as I know nothing about the LIRR and relished the idea of a traveling companion. My only misgiving was that I knew I probably wouldn’t get to knit on the train, like I usually do. I figured it’d be kinda rude to ride the train with someone you’re still getting to know and chit chat with them (at the time I was working on a glove that required a little more concentration because of the cables and the chart). I put it out of my head, though, since it was only a 45 minute ride; it really wasn’t that serious. When we got to the train, though, it was obvious the trip would take quite a bit longer.
4 comments:
don't feel bad about not daring to knit in some situations ! I'm 30 something lady (girl?) and I sometimes don't dare knitting in public. I'd say that in an anonymous crowd, I would feel more courageous than if I was with people I know but not that much (and co-workers qualify). Something about what people might think....
A few years back, when I had my yarn shop, 4 high school guys came in. 3 wanted to learn to knit. 1 wanted to learn to crochet. None of them wanted anyone else to know about it. All four were on the football team. I have no idea if they were gay, straight or what not. They came back the next day after practice and when the shop was closed, we shut the blinds so no one could see in and there began their weekly lessons. Great kids. But I was sworn to secrecy.
And in certain situations, like the one you were in, I wouldn't knit either. Sometimes life begs you to be social and your project will beg for concentration. Can't always do both.
thanks for you comments :)
Just happened to notice your blog and story. It's funny how we are all in awkward situations, and all seem to do the same freezing up. Regardless of who we are, and our preferences, we all do the same thing in some form or another. Although, I have to say, some time ago, I happened to be watching Good Morning America, and they happened to be interviewing a football player, and were quite surprised to find out in their research, he loves to crochet, and talked about it. He had no issues what so ever talking about it, and was very passionate about it. The only thing that was funny, was he was asked what his favorite "knot" was.. Have to give him credit for keeping a straight face and not correcting the interviewer, just answered the best he could and kept on going with the interview.. :-)
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