I don’t think Jill actually thinks I’m a lesbian. I think she’s just a bitch — and jealous — and probably a bigoted redneck. She’s been best friends with Laurie since they were in kindergarten or something, but now Laurie is hanging out with me all the time and today she told her she thinks I’m a lesbian and that I want her (Laurie) to be my girlfriend. Laurie told me immediately and now I’m in the little room, pissed off and trying not to care about some stupid rumour started by some stupid girl who wears too much makeup and only cares about gossip and Duran Duran.
I put on the 12-inch single of Bananarama’s Really Saying Something and light a cigarette. So what if some jealous, ridiculous girl thinks I’m gay. I know lots of gay guys from my acting classes and from going to the clubs downtown, and they’re great — definitely better than hanging out with catty girls like Jill. I can’t believe some of the horrible things people say to them on the street, though. I wish I could live in New York or London or just some place where people aren’t as awful and embarrassing.
That’s really the thing. Jill should be embarrassed. I should feel sorry for her. She’s so pathetic. She can say whatever she wants about me. She can think I’m a lesbian, she can even tell people. Anyone who knows me knows I’m totally into Mark, so it’s not like it would matter.
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Image: Bananarama photographed by Eric Watson for Smash Hits, February 1983.
Welcome to the Little Room is a series of 250-word re-imagined vignettes from my ’80s youth with a focus on music and style. It appears weekly on periodicult.com.
