Of Dollars and Sense.

Ever since the lube by the bedside incident, I've pretty much grown accustomed to the Mother's occasional off the wall 'Are you Straight' questions. Hardly ever 'Are you gay?' but more often than not 'Are you straight?' because the word gay still remains taboo, though how phrasing it as the latter is any better is beyond me. It's as if by avoiding the word gay, broaching the subject of your son's sexuality suddenly becomes more manageable. But I guess a lot of close-minded parents in denial behave in similar quirky ways.

So anyway I'd grown used to the Mother's clumsy, often painfully awkward (for her) probing of my sexuality, of which half the time she seemed to be convincing herself of my 'heterosexuality'. Such probing usually extended to certain male friends with queries like,"Huh not married yet? (at 35) Is he gay?" Initially, I'd just outright flatly deny my sexuality for reasons I've already explained in detail in earlier entries.

Then as the years went by, I figured why give her that much satisfaction in affirming her fragile self delusion. So I'd just say something vague like 'Can you stop being so spastic?' or 'Are you mad?' to display my annoyance and leave her hanging without the answer she so desperately wanted. Whereupon she'd be unable to progress further, the desire to know warring with the dread of finding out before the whole process gets short circuited with the usual dose of self-delusion.

It was amusing to the extent that humor could be found in such tiresome charades. But the probing seemed to taper off the last couple of years, so it was with some surprise when I was accosted by the Mother yesterday as I was leaving for the office and gym before heading to a colleague's place for BBQ.

"You really should get a girlfriend." the woman went.
"Whaaaat??"
I halted in mid-stride, all thoughts of grabbing the gym shoe bag momentarily displaced by the stupidity of the statement, the unconventional prong of attack.
"You heard me. You should have a girlfriend at this age." that indomitable woman replied.
"Excuse me. Why don't I hear you asking XX (the Sister) to get a boyfriend? It's about high time she gets one, being older and all by your impeccable logic." I retorted.
"Stop being funny. I'll pray to God that you get a good, God-fearing girlfriend."

That ludicrous statement didn't even warrant a rebuttal. I think I managed a snort. Seeing that she was not going to illicit any form of reply from yours truly, the Mother hurried down the hallway as I stepped out and continued, "You are straight right? Right?" Which I replied with the perfunctory 'You're mad.'

"You cannot be gay... only sick people are gay... so you must be straight ok?" The illogicality of her quasi-question cum statement was laughable. It's times like those that I'm seriously tempted to tell the Mother that her son is gay just to watch her reaction. The envisaged aftermath always manages to silence me.. for now. Mistaking my silence as acquiescence to her statement, she pressed on, "Don't worry I will pray that God gives you a good girlfriend who loves Him that she might change your ways."

I bit back an epithet and thankfully the cab arrived at that opportune moment so I was spared from further madness. It's been years but I still remain amazed by the depth and tenacity of the Mother's self-delusion. Faith can be a scary thing when applied in all the wrong places. Perhaps next time I'll just bring a guy back home, lock ourselves in my room and tell her we're having holy fellowship.

On to other matters, last month's credit card bill was truly and utterly horrific. It'll take at least 2 months to get back in the black. From now on it's extreme fiscal restraint for the next 3 months, which means no swanky meals, at least 2 bring-from-home-DIY roast beef sandwiches per week and a substantially toned down social life. Sad to say, you usually need money to socialise in Singapore.