Last weekend, Adam and I were in a car accident in Barstow, on the 247 by the Mojave desert. Because it was a Saturday and there were no body repair shops around, I had my car towed to Loma Linda, where my grandmother lives. We ended up sleeping in Loma Linda and getting both my blown tires fixed.
At around midnight (my grandmother sleeps at 9 p.m.) we stole what tasted like 50-year-old Moet from my grandma’s top shelf and drank it with orange juice (it was nasty). My grandmother told Adam to sleep in the den, and I got the guestroom. Before we left, she asked Adam to change a bunch of lightbulbs.
Today, my mom called my grandma from the Philippines to ask what she thought of Adam.
My grandma said, “Well, he’s gay.”
Mom replied, “What do you mean he’s gay?!?”
“He said so himself!” My grandma said indignantly. “He admitted it, right after he lost American Idol”