In our building, there's two units per floor. Our "floormates" are a lesbian couple and their daughter. Over the last couple of years, we've become pretty good friends, so much so that once every couple months we gather at their place to watch tivo'd episodes of "1 Girl, 5 Gays," a Canadian TV show that asks 25 questions about love and sex.
The mix is always eclectic: we invite some of our friends, they invite some of theirs, including a male gay couple that live the D/s lifestyle 24/7. When the sub leaves a room without his Dominant, he has to request permission. It's weird at first, but it's surprising how quickly you stop noticing it.
As an ultra modern couple with a tendency toward the weird, we find them fascinating. Alas, when I put on my sly grin, wrapped my arms around my wife and fake complained in her ear that my own standing in the room was being undermined by her unwillingness to more publicly serve me, I got elbowed in the ribs pretty hard. Next time I'll wait a couple drinks longer.
But the best part of those nights is when the show poses a really interesting question and we pause for discussion. It's fascinating the way opinion divides in the room: occasionally, it's mostly gay vs mostly straight, but not as often as you'd guess. More often, it's mostly men vs mostly women or the 30-something couples vs. the 20-something couples or couples vs. singles or whites vs minorities, or some weird, mixed combination.
Very rarely is unanimity achieved, but last weekend we did all agree on one sad fact: If the current, tragic mess that's engulfed General Petraeus and General Allen involving this poison ivy chick Jill Kelley (who I read today might even have gotten the investigating FBI agent to send her a shirtless picture) had happened among gay members of the services rather than straight members, then right now there'd be a nationwide outcry to re-establish the ban on gays in the military.
That seems completely unfair to me. Should the day ever come when a gay sex scandal does surface in the military, I hope we remember the glass houses we live in before we start to throw stones.