Pirates Arrrrrrr Scary

Also, it would make Chris a lot happier if I participated in the life of the Green Goddess, at least to the point of hanging out more and getting to know his "pirate crew." I haven't done very well with this, I'm afraid. For a long time -- one year? two? I was essentially agoraphobic. Didn't go anywhere or see anybody. Even then he was peeved that I never came in to eat, but it wasn't as if I were preferentially dining or socializing elsewhere. Then, after going on testosterone, I started dipping a toe into the gay social scene. I've come quite a long way with that, but the Green Goddess pirate crew and assorted fans comprise a whole different animal, an intimidating one, a Black Freighter where I might be the cabin boy going into the cooking pot. It's the major part of Chris' life, yet it's inherently foreign to me. I don't understand restaurants anymore. Or maybe I understand them too well, I don't know. At any rate, I had my shot at being part of the "foodie" world and failed miserably. It's no longer a comfortable scene for me. I'm no good at just jumping in when I don't know the lay of the land. I want Chris to have his success and savor it -- God knows he has deserved it long enough -- but I can't seem to take part. As we recently agreed, the gay lifestyle is not a threat to traditional marriage, but the chef lifestyle most surely is.

Blah, blah, blah, bellyache, bellyache, bellyache (as I believe Johnny Rotten once said). Feel free to call me a selfish, cowardly prat for this one. God knows I deserve it.