Thanksgiving is a great holiday. It’s one day a year you forget about the fat, the carbs, The Zone, the weights, the cardio or whatever it is you do to keep your manly physique shapely and eat what you want when you want. You spend the day with family and friends and for a few hours all is right and well with the world. But for the gay people that aren’t out to their families, this day of indulgence of food and family can turn into a day from hell. In my family my brother cooks and my mom helps him. I set the table and decorate the dining room with the help of my nieces and we all generally have a great time.

But when it comes time for the actual meal, one hellish scenario inevitably plays out as the dinner conversation comes around to who is getting married, who isn’t and who is seeing who. The girls begin discussing a gay friend or two as your far right, conservative, republican brother, who is 15 years older than you, begins to writhe in his chair at the head of the table. All eyes turn to you as his bossy wife blurts out your unattached status.

She insists you should be married, or at least have a girl friend and announces in an over joyous manner, “I know just the right girl!” You suddenly wish you’d sink into the floor.

The niece in college points out that the girl is so prissy, “What would he want with her?”

To which the sister-in-law replies, “Look at this place! What do you think he is? They’d be perfect for each other.”

The older, married niece catches your gaze and puts her mother in her place by yelling, “Leave him alone!” with a wink to you and so the conversation quickly shifts and the bomb that could cause World War III is diffused once again, at least until Christmas. And all you can think is, “Christ, where’s dessert?”