This will sound a bit strange, I know, but whenever I walk into a grocery store, I have to decide whether or not I feel like telling the cashier I'm gay.
And right now, you're probably thinking: "Under what circumstances would anyone have to tell the complete stranger at the checkout counter about his sexual orientation?"
I assure you it's not about sex.
It's about flowers.
I love them.
I love smelling them. I love receiving them. I love giving them to my partner.
So often when I'm at the grocery store, I'll pick up a dozen roses for him. And then the cashier grabs them off the conveyor belt and, because they're roses, usually says something along the lines of, "Oh, she's going to love these."
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Complete article at CNN : http://bit.ly/nA22vi
