My friend Leasey told me today that she and her girlfriends are going to take me out “on the pull” to a place where repetitive beats are played and alcoholic drinks are served. She has ordered me not to wear my “gay trousers” lest the straight women think I am not interested in them. Apparently my gay trousers are one of several pairs of black ones I own and their gayness should be obvious to me. I have not worn the leather chaparajos since the unfortunate incident in Glasgow, so she can’t mean those, but she has promised to explain.

UPDATE: If anyone comments that they believe they too might have some gay trousers, but they can’t be sure because the garments are in the closet, it will now no longer be an original joke.