Editor’s Note: If you’re offended by this post, get a life. It’s moooostly tongue-in-cheek, and yes, I understand that the harsh reality of closeted gay men pretending to be with old, ugly, blonde women from Orange County is nothing to be taken lightly. But you know what, we’re gonna go there. So grab a mimosa and wrap that bloomys pashmina tight around your body… or just exit out of the screen.
Last week’s episode ended in a cliffhanger. The screen went dark, and next week’s previews popped up, just as we were about to witness an epic fight between Tamra and her gay boyfriend Edie. What’s that you ask? Why would Tamra be fighting with her gay boyfriend, four tequila shots into their taxi boat trip to Catalina, and on the eve of her birthday? Shouldn’t she be living it up, dancing on the table, using his wingman skills and planning their nightcap–proceeded by a bra and panty tickle fight–immediately upon docking? OHHHH! He’s not like, her gay boyfriend. He’s HER GAY BOYFRIEND! As in, he is a gay man pretending to date Tamra so he can appear on a weekly reality show, show off his newly cut hair, manicured eyebrows and extra small black-tees. So, why this fight? ‘Cause simply public-dating a woman isn’t enough anymore. Liza Minnelli has ruined the simple beard for all future closeted gay men, and they are shopping for far more extensive services. Gone are the days when last minute dinner companions and long, late-night, phone sessions pass for acceptable bearding. Guys like Edie–forty year old, never married, Orange County Bachelors with 3% body fat–need to parade around in, seemingly, full blown relationships.
So what sets him off? He feigns fury when Tamra puts Vicki’s new beau’s hand on her breast and is all like, ooooo I like me some Mississippi on my tit. But Tamra was just lashing out at Edie because she was jealous that he and Vicki were (swear to christ) high-fiving and sharing zodiac signs. I’ll repeat: high-fiving and sharing zodiac signs. Beyond the fact that high-fives and zodiac signs are both bingo squares at Hamburger Mary’s, why if you’re Tamra, would you care that your ninety-year old, Michigan face, newly divorced friend was talking to your fake boyfriend in the first place? Bravo hides all the good behind the scenes action for the reunion specials, so this is pure speculation on my part, but my theory is that Tamra is incredibly insecure about Edie jumping Tamra’s ship (The USS Santa Ana Condo) to be Vicki’s new plus one in her Coto de Caza mansion. Where would you rather be? I mean, Vicki’s got tons of beds to sleep in, and at least two pools to lounge by. There is an inside bar, an outside bar and a bathroom bar. She and Edie would never even see each other in that ten thousand square foot mansion unless they were sippin wine coolies or pre-partying for a BRAVO dinner gala. I don’t know from experience, but I’m fairly certain that high on the list of men seeking 21st Century Beards is a house with a pool, guest bedrooms and multiple surreptitious entrances/exits. The logistics make sense to me, but I’m a rational male. These emotional issues are broken down better by women. I’m no expert on affairs of the light-loafered heart. I had to bring in someone with experience. So I invited Erin Masterson to guest post again. I’m signing off here, the following is from Erin:
When Richie asked me to help him write about someone named Edie, from Bravo’s The Real Housewives of Orange County, I was at a loss. I am not some shiksa–desperate for a Jewish doctor–watching Patti Stenger and taking notes; nor am I a gay man getting hate boners, wishing I could sleep with and/or be Andy Cohen. So, truth be told, I really don’t watch too much Bravo – though I do enjoy those new money bitches in Atlanta. Not being familiar with this Edie character, I asked Richie to describe him, to which he replied He’s a gay Mexican man. Well there’s something I can speak on.
To my benefit (or detriment, I’m not quite sure), I have always been a relationship type girl. I had my first boyfriend at 15, and despite the fact that I am a royal pain in the ass, I have had quite a few boyfriends since then. Beyond these men all being horrible for me (with the exception of the Mexican whom I will discuss later) they’ve had absolutely nothing in common with each other. I’ve dated a Korean adopted and raised by a white family in Michigan, an evangelical, who was divorced, and lived in, what was for all intents and purposes, a tree house, and a Brit living in London, who if you google earthed him right now would probably be passed out drunk at a bus stop. But my longest and most traumatizing relationship (subject for another post) was with a gay man. That’s right, a gay man. Of course I didn’t know he was gay at the time, but he is definitely flying his flag high, now. Looking back, there were more than a few things that should have tipped me off. So to perhaps save Tamra some of the embarrassment I’ve endured, here are a few ways to know for sure that your boyfriend is actually a gay man:
- First, if your boyfriend is more concerned with what you wear than you are, if he insists that you always wear heels and claims that wearing a sweater makes you look like a grandmother, your boyfriend is a gay man.
- Second, if your boyfriend’s mother kisses the ground you walk on, even though you hate her and have never given her any reason to like you, your boyfriend is a gay man and she’s just glad he’s finally found a girl.
- Third, if your boyfriend loved Andy Cohen, circa 2007 when he was trying to play it straight, but hates him now, your boyfriend is a closeted gay man. Closeted gay men hate men that are all, “we’re here, we’re queer, so get used to it”, they’re jealous like that.
- And lastly, though I am ashamed to admit that the queerness of this escaped me, if your boyfriend likes Mariah Carey (like every album, including The Emancipation of Mimi) your boyfriend is a gay man.
As far as dating a mexican man, I don’t have much to say. I suppose you know you’re dating a Mexican if he wants sex and scrambled eggs all the time. Richie has some serious racial self-loathing going on, so I don’t know much about how real Mexican men act. All I know is, he loves it when I mouth off, and he constantly has his hand on my ass, is that racist?
Anyways, Tamra, my advice to you is: RUN LIKE THE WIND. Go get yourself a nice straight man. His abs might not be as nice, nor will he be as sympathetic to your shopping addiction, but dating a straight guy will save you the shame and humiliation and blow to your ego–’cause the day will come– from finding Edie, your “boyfriend”, on some gay dating site aptly named Grinder.
Erin Masterson is an LA resident, lover of Dick, Fleetwood Mac and Miller High Life. Harass her on Twitter @missmasteron She previously contributed to Dick’s Favorite Blog under the #ALoveStory tag. If you need to catch up on A Love Story, click the link and start at the bottom.