Cole Matthews' The Art of Being Gay was Monday's Signature Feature. Did you grab your copy of the signature banner so you can share your love for Cole's story? If not, you can do that here! Today we're featuring his chosen excerpt.

Cole says... This excerpt gives you a glimpse at the tone and character of the story. It's a comedy, a farce really, and also gives the reader some of Roy's attributes. This segment also shows how Roy may not think he's ready to date, but fate really doesn't care about such reservations.

 

“These towels are atrocious,” she said fingering the decorative ones hanging on the oven door handle. “We should find you new ones. Grape vines are so out right now and these are faded. We’ll go shopping after church on Sunday.”

 

Roy blinked his eyes. “What on God’s green earth are you talking about mom?”

 

“Sunday, after church. We’ll go to that kitchen store in Uptown and find some nice looking towels that will spruce up the place. It’ll be fun,” she said. Roy watched as she started digging through his junk drawer, apparently looking for something else to criticize.

 

“I’m not going to church with you, mom. It’s not Christmas Eve or anything,” Roy said absently fingering the placemat on the kitchen table.

 

“This church you’ll like. It’s a gay one. We’ll find you a nice young man to bring home,” she said with a wicked grin. Roy thought his mother’s strange wording was hilarious, like it was shopping for a new rug to go with the new towels. He began to imagine men lined up with price stickers and his mother looking at their teeth and hair for the ‘best bargain’.

 

“I’ve never heard of a gay church before. What do they serve at communion, Margaritas and condoms?” he chuckled.

 

“Don’t be crude dear,” she said with a perturbed look on her face. “It’s a regular church for gay people. It’s called ‘All God’s Children’. Much better I think than some nasty dive bar with boys who don’t know if they’re straight this week or gay. We’ll find you a nice broken one for you to fix up.”

 

“Excuse me?” Roy exclaimed. He could divine this as a true insult through her flood of words. Roy had lots of practice pulling out her little digs from the mountain of opinions she freely offered.

 

“I said the church will have nice men who aren’t wondering if they like other boys or if they like girls,” she said pulling out wire twist ties and bundling them together. “You’re no spring chicken Roy. It’s time to get serious about a nice man to keep around the house.”

 

Roy ignored her talk about a boyfriend like he was a tabby or Chihuahua. “I meant the crack about finding a broken guy for me to fix.”
“Oh that part. You’re just like your father, may God have mercy on his soul,” she said placing the little sheath of fasteners in the drawer. Roy watched as she started wrapping his rubber bands into a ball.

 

“Mother! Stop doing that and listen to me,” Roy said loudly. “Now.”

 

Kendra looked over at him with a wry smile on her lips. “I’m listening, your highness.”

 

“First of all, you make it sound like dad’s dead and not in prison. Second, how am I, as you put it, ‘just like him’?” Roy was feeling pretty annoyed with her little insinuations. He was nothing like his father, a low life criminal who he was embarrassed to acknowledge.
His mother sighed, dropped the rubber bands into the drawer, and came over to the table. “You are so like your father but in one way you are the spitting image of him.” She sat down and put her chin in her palms.

Want to read more? Check out the rest of the story here!