My two younger sisters are coming to Chicago later this week. Honestly, my family barely stepped foot in this city for nine years, and now all of a sudden I feel as though I can't go two months without a visit from one of them.
Well, strictly speaking, my sisters will be here to see Oprah, but because she only has to host them for a couple of hours and I will have to entertain them for four whole days, I'm counting it as a full-blown Visit to Zac.
This particular visit's big deal is that I'm introducing them to my boyfriend PISS [and by the way, it's probably high time I updated that acronym; up to now, PISS has stood for "Person I'm Sort of Seeing," a rather noncommittal sobriquet for someone who's been in the picture for four months with no end in sight; but because I don't want to confuse you by suddenly calling him something else--and because, let's face it, I'm too lazy to think of something else--I shall continue to call him PISS and you will just have to remember that from now on it stands for "Person I'm Still Seeing"].
I have never introduced a boyfriend to one of my relations. They know I'm gay, of course (for one thing, I told them; for another, it's glaringly obvious), but I have never introduced them to someone I'm seeing because, well, for several reasons: I rarely date someone for longer than a month, I live far from home, we're not the type of family that, like, talks, they prefer to think of me as a sexless cartoon, I am fundamentally cowardly . . . take your pick. But all that will change on Friday night, when my two younger sisters, my best friend, the Person I'm Still Seeing, and I will sit down for one big ol' uncomfortable dinner.
Why now, you ask? And why PISS? Well, I just figure that if my family is going to insist on dropping in on my life like this every two seconds, they might as well have an accurate picture of what they're dropping in on, don't you think?
I'll let you know how it all turns out.
ELSEWHERE:
My short review of Thunder & Lightning Ensemble's production of Earl the Vampire is in the current issue of the Chicago Reader.
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