A STRANGE GAY BUS RIDE By Pablo Yagayo “Dear Doctor Love, my name is Benson. My partner Bosco and I have been living together for two years now. We are undecided on who should conceive. We are both scared of labour pains and the outrageous cravings that come along with pregnancy yet we want to have a normal pregnancy. We thought of adopting children but adopted children ask too many questions. Please help us. Mr & Mrs B & B.” This was a letter written by a gay couple to a love doctor in a Canadian newspaper. I kept asking myself, what kind of help do these fellas want? Psychiatric help? Didn’t they study reproduction during their school days? Why don’t they ask their mothers how they came into existence? While I was still pondering the question, a lady seated next to me in the bus asked, in a typical British accent, “You have been reading that part of the paper for close to an hour, are you straight?” I folded the newspaper and answered: “Straight to the point. I’m married with a son.” She wore a mischievous smile, pulled out her wallet and showed me a passport photo of a lady, “This is my husband, and we’ve been together for three years now.” She kissed the photo and placed it in the book she was reading. “Any children?” I adamantly asked. “Yes, we have a puppy – Scooby Doo,” she replied. So I asked her, “Since you are her wife,” to which she corrected me with, “his wife.” “Apologies, your husband’s wife, was it a natural birth or a C-section?” I continued. The lady looked at me as if I was the one who conspired with Pontius Pilate to crucify Jesus. “We adopted him from our Chinese neighbours in Vancouver. He was very tiny with no flesh. They had nothing to gain from him so they trashed him alive in the bin.” I then asked her whether she has any intentions of having her own children. “I have discussed it with my ‘husband’, Susan and we are thinking of adopting twins.” I got the newspaper and pointed at B & B’s question and said, “They claim that adopted children ask many questions, are you ready to answer them?” She laughed so hard and said, “Questions like what?” I folded the newspaper again and said, “Questions like: How come daddy and mummy have big breasts? Why is it that our friends’ daddies don’t wear high heels and bras? Who of you is our mother? Where is our father, daddy the real man? And many more.” She cleared her voice and said, “We’ll tell them that their father died in an accident before they were born and I’m their mother. My ‘husband’ Susan will then convince them that he decided to take on their deceased father’s role as daddy.” I realised that this lady was getting so passionate with the conversation; so, I asked her what advice she would give the problematic couple in the newspaper. “Well, I would ask them to get a surrogate, donate whatever it takes to make a child and wait for the result,” she answered. I got the newspaper, went to the same page and showed her the next problem, which read: “Dear Doctor Love, My partner and I are gay men. We hired a woman to carry a baby for us and indeed she surprised us when she gave birth to triplets. Five years later, the woman appeared at our doorstep with police claiming that we had stolen her children. We tried to explain to the police that the woman was hired as a surrogate mum and they refused, claiming that we produce the mother if we are to stay with them. How can we get our children back? Duncan and Maxwell.” She thought for a moment and said,” Well, I would ask them to forget about the children and raise puppies.” It was at that point that the driver announced that we had reached Vancouver, our final destination. I neither got to know her name nor did I meet her ‘husband’ Susan and their first-born, Scooby, the puppy.
Posted on: Thu, 01 Aug 2013 19:43:51 +0000
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