“Walking on high heels, soaking up life”

"Gay Pride" and Prejudice
I've been searching for a gay husband forever. Believe every girl needs and deserves one. They understand that Moët is not alcohol but fully adequate food, Ballerinas are not to be called "shoes", and will watch the American ending of "Pride and Prejudice" with you over and over again. (Yes: they will have handkerchiefs prepared rather than your boyfriends asking: "Are you crying? REALLY???").

My attempt to find someone who could deal with me (aka walking, talking, shoe-hormone bomb) was sadly to no avail until today.
It must have been celebrating Gay Pride past weekend, that I remembered the story when I almost, ALMOST thought I found "The One".
Not only was he looking like Ricky Martin, he was also moving (hip's don't lie) like RM and talking just alike. I checked carefully.
Sensitive? Check. Complimenting my heels and outfit? (More than check: we had a whole discussion about it). Balancing a prosecco more elegantly than me in one hand while pulling a grand gesture with the other? Couldn't be more convinced.
And than: not that I know very much about Mariah Carey: but hell! He did.Super-excited I was. And keen on meeting again. Which luckily happened.
"Hello", he purred: "Sooooooo nice to see you, may I introduce you to my.....GIRLFRIEND?".
Sigh. Apparently my "Gay Pride" is more "Gay Prejudice".

For those who like pink, my heels and miss female body parts: Applications to the usual address please.

xxxToday's shoes are GUESS