Gay Midgets in Bathrooms

I was once hit on at a gas station in Beckley, West Virginia.

By a truck driver.

I got nothing against truck drivers. Me ex-father-in-law is a steel hauler. Truck drivers keep America running. Seriously. They bring every item, every bit of food, every thing you buy at every store you shop at and restaurant you eat at was delivered by a truck. So give them some respect on the road.

He was black.

I'm not racist. I refuse to dislike someone for their skin color. Petty hatred ... skin color, religion, sexual preference, political party, upbringing, etc ... that stuff's for amateur haters. If I'm going to hate, I'm going to hate you for a valid reason. I'll get to know you, and find a good reason to hate you.

And a midget.

I not a sizest. I got nothing against anyone, of any height, or weight.

And flamboyantly gay.

I'm not homophobic in the least. I have vacationed in Provincetown, Cape Cod. I support gay marriage.

You are who you are, you love who you love. And love is hard to find, and harder to keep. So if you find it, enjoy it. Revel in it. Respect it.

There, that's my take on life, love and sexuality.

So yeah, I got propositioned in a bathroom in a gas station in Beckley, West Virginia, by a black, gay, truck-driving midget.

True story.

In 2003, on my way home to NW PA where I was living with my then-wife, we stopped off to get gas. I went into the station to pay, get a coffee and go to the bathroom. I walked in the men's room, walked up to the open trough, and realized there was a midget beside me, doing his business.

He looked at me, looked at my dick, looked up at me and said, "I'm the perfect height for your dick if you're interested." All I could think to reply to that was, "Thanks, but I don't think my wife would like that too much."

I finished my business and left.

I went back outside to pump the gas, apparently with the look of a married guy who was just propositioned in a gas station bathroom by a black, homosexual, midget truck driver.

I'm sure it's a very unusual look, because my then-wife rolled down her window, looked at me and asked what was wrong.

I told her what happened.

She didn't believe me until she saw him walk out of the gas station.

And get into his 18-wheeler.

And wink at me.

Needless to say, she had a new favorite party story.