Today marked the second occasion, within the last two weeks, that a relative stranger informed me they thought I was straight. It's not on account of anything even remotely masculine, either. I'd venture to guess that it's more out of learning of my good Jewish upbringing than anything else. Or missing the guy in the pink shirt for the elephant that isn't even in the room. Strike Two. Today, a guy I'd met a couple of times before was chatting with me about finding that elusive creature, the "Nice Jewish Girl". This same guy had asked, a few months back, if I was my pregnant friend's baby daddy. Apparently, our explosive laughter at the idea did nothing to tarnish his image of me as a good Jewish manly man. "Have you found a Nice Jewish Girl?" To wit, I replied, "I don't think my partner would be very thrilled if I did. So I suppose not."

Strike One. On my first day of classes, my clinic supervisor was going over standard dress code. Due to the fact that speech is largely made up of women, she mentioned that it wouldn't be wise to wear anything with a bare midriff, for example. The girls were like, "Yeah, we know." And when I replied with a catty "Well, darn," she completely missed the intended gay humor and was like, "Yeah, Phil, too bad for you, not getting to see the girls wearing that." I had no further comment.