The birthday girl, Dani, sat across from me at the restaurant on Saturday night. She pointed at Kristi, who had organized the party.

"Kristi thinks you're gay," Dani said, raising an eyebrow at me.

Gay? Man, first I'm Bob Saget and now I'm gay. This is a tough crowd, I thought to myself.

"How can Kristi think I'm gay?" I asked, "I just met her. All I've said to her is 'Hi, I'm Mike'"

"It's not what you said tonight. It's what you said in your emails," Dani answered.

I mentally replayed my emails to Kristi. I had sent her a question about a good gift to buy Dani, and then another one asking what sort of attire would be appropriate for the restaurant (I had never been before). These were definitely "I'm a social dumbass" emails, and not "Man, I could go for a cock right about now" emails.

I mean, if I were gay, I wouldn't be asking what to wear, I'd KNOW what to wear. I'd sashay into my fabulous closet, select a fabulous ensemble, and then just be fabulous.

I spun around to face Kristi.

"Kristi! You thought I was gay?" I asked.

"What? What makes you think that?" she replied, alarmed.

"Dani told me you said that."

"DANI!" she yelped, and then went back to another conversation, shaking her head in disbelief.

So, there you have it. Some people speak gay. Others walk gay. Me? I email gay.