Two friends, on parents.

Cecily: At least your parents know who you are.

Alexander: They’re from Texas. They have no clue how to handle the malaise-riddled, bilingual, gender non-binary gay man that shares their genetics. They’d die of aneurysms if they met the people with whom I keep company: charlatans, musicians, career hedonists, trust fund druggies, and the older men with whom I seek to fill my paternal void (usually via sex and misplaced feelings).

Two friends, on vernacular.

Vinnie: You’re gay (that’s the expression Americans use when they cannot comprehend something).

Cecily: You’re straight (that’s the expression we queens use when we know exactly how to describe somebody).