Putting Out at Work

Coming out of the closet is often more like leaving a room than entering one. This philosophical bent is itself an aspect of my bent philosophy.

Although I am a rainbow-flag-waving, ring-wearing married-to-a-woman lesbian, I am oft afflicted by invisibility, though sadly not invincibility. As ever, I digress, my last employer was selectively deaf for talk of "my partner", she missed frequent references to the woman I live and even woke up with, the latter was to differentiate from sister or housemate (although in the literal sense this last term was apt as we do mate in a house.) Said boss was selectively blind even to my waistcoats and trousers (my "fashion sense" was even complimented). This woman put the D in the world's longest river (Nile)...think about it.

In desperation once when I wished to get home to my lover at a reasonable hour before my dinner was in the metaphorical dog, I said, "I have to go, there is a stew waiting for me..." before I could get any further my boss said, "Oh is that his name, your partner?"

Exasperated, it was time to make my sexuality explicit sotospeak, I then clarified that it was a woman who awaited my return and who had indeed cooked dinner for me. So, a woman who had cooked me dinner and who I was going home to, I lived with a woman, I was going to eat with her- the 2 of us.
"Oh," said my boss confused, "And what about Stu your partner, where's he tonight then?"