Thread Roulette: Zac and Josh

Josh should not have been out. He should have been home resting. Instead he had waited until he was no longer being hovered over by worried friends and walked to the mall -- a fact that was only made possible by taking unholy amounts of the Hydrocodone the doctor had prescribed. He could easily have asked his friends to pick up anything he needed, of course, but he felt that he had imposed upon them enough as it was, and besides, he hated being cooped up in his house by himself. The mall had something his house currently did not: crowds.

There was something comforting about being surrounded by all those people, particularly after his last attempts at voluntary solitude had ended so poorly. He winced as another shopper shoved past him; even the pain killers couldn't make being being pushed against by the bulky purses of hasty, careless people not hurt. Maybe he should have asked Sean to do his Hanukkah shopping for him, after all...

The sounds of feet coming up behind him caused him to turn his head slightly; ugh, a herd. He retreated into the nearest store rather than get run down. Navigating had never been this difficult for him; cursed broken ribs.

Pop rock blared over the speakers, the lights dim, the mannequin's dressed in ripped and torn clothes. Wow, when he was younger any clothes with holes in them had been the result of excessive wear, not because he'd bought them that way. Not that he could complain too much about youth fashion; it hadn't exactly been classy when he was a teenager, either.

"That's so gay." A young voice across the store snickered, and Josh frowned and marched over to the best of his ability -- hampered as much by the Hydrocodone as by his ribs. He had heard similar exclamations of teen ridicule come from the lips of his nieces and nephews, and he didn't let them get away with that, either.

"Pardon," He narrowed his eyes at the speaker. "but I was wondering what, exactly, could possibly be gay about something without sex organs."

Josh tilted his head in confusion and annoyance as the teen thrust something that looked vaguely as if it was meant to be underwear in his face. At least, the label claimed it was underwear, but it certainly wasn't anything he would have worn.

"What it will or will not contain isn't the point, the point is that it is incapable of having a sexual orientation and therefore referring to it as gay is absurd. I realize that appropriating queer identity and using it to denigrate wardrobe choices you don't agree with is popular with you young people right now, but it's extremely thoughtless."

Not that the boy seemed the least bit concerned with his choice of words; he was too busy giggling over the product in question.

"It does look uncomfortable..." He agreed, losing the thread of his argument to sheer bewilderment over the garments being held up for inspection. He furrowed his brow as his mind attempted to make sense of the boxer briefs; neither the Hydrocodone in his system nor the throbbing dance music blaring over the speakers were helping any.

In fact, if his brain hadn't been muddled by pain medication he might have continued his rant, going over the issues of straight privilege and identity and labels -- a rant that would undoubtedly have done little good; they never seemed to make as much of an impression as he wanted -- but he couldn't focus, and the staring at the underwear required a great deal less thought than lecturing a spoiled teenager.

"I assume people buy it or they wouldn't sell it, but it is awfully sad that anyone finds this necessary. If you can't get dates based on your own merits you're looking in the wrong places." Or else you were just insecure to a degree he couldn't empathize with and thus couldn't fathom.

People were always placing emphasis on the wrong traits, in his opinion. Prettiness was all very well and good but there were more important qualities to be had, such as a strong mind and a kind heart. Then again a number of the people emphasizing looks were only interested in fleeting fun, in which case physical attributes had a more immediate impact than mental and emotional connections. Not that he could look down on that entirely without some amount of hypocrisy; he'd never been one to hop from bed to bed, but long-term commitments had never been a high priority.

"I suppose they aren't expecting you to wear it for very long." He added, trying to think in what circumstances it would be appropriate to wear the thing at all. Definitely not something you would wear to work (he hoped. If any of his coworkers were wearing any such thing he certainly hadn't noticed), so it was probably more of a date item than every day wear. Of course, people were known to suffer for appearances on a regular enough basis, perhaps some people would wear it regularly.

"I....I am not having this discussion." He muttered, placing a hand on his forehead. Ugh. What had been the point of coming over here again? Oh, right. "That doesn't mean it is acceptable to call it gay."