Missing: One Gay Friend

I used to have this gay friend—Luis. We met in college when we both worked at The Daily Texan. When he first started working there we all whispered to each other, “Is he? Or does he just have that Latin aura that can sometimes be confused with gay?” One quick 11-point assessment and we knew. Well, we also just flat out asked him over some margaritas one night.

But Luis wasn’t a typical Jack. He was even less gay than Will. He drove a motorcycle. He liked sports. In some ways he was straighter than Frank! But we had a blast my senior year of college. Back then I had to share Luis with a flurry of gay-friend-wanting-gals.

So when I went off to work in Dallas, I invited Luis to come along and work at the ad agency with me. Well, we also got $1,000 for recruiting someone. Everybody won. When Luis moved here he got all into the gay scene. Have you seen the gay scene? It’s awesome. In fact, one day Frank and I were driving down Oak Lawn in the middle of the afternoon and when he saw all of the activity, Frank asked with extreme curiosity, “Hey! What’s this part of town?”

Luis took me to the gay bars where everyone is friendly and inviting. And they play the BEST songs! It’s like I gave them a mixed tape of all my fave tunes—Madonna, Destiny’s Child, Britney. And the ultimate: Cher, If I could Turn Back Time. When that song played I did my famous counterclockwise dance which the gay men love.

Like me, Luis wasn’t that into shopping but we knew that’s what gay guys and their gal pals did together so we complied. When we were first decorating our apartments we went to Garden Ridge Pottery. I know, it’s so not gay chic but remember, we worked in advertising. We each picked themes for our décor. He went for an art motif and I nautical. Together we helped each other decorate our homes with plastic busts of David and cheap sail boat paintings.

I liked hanging out with his new group of gay pals too. If we were in the car and one would say, “Keep going straight,” they would all erupt in giggles. And because Luis was so not flamboyant even Frank was comfortable around him. Frank once said, “Oh, good. Luis joined my gym. He can spot me.” Oh, I’m sure he will, Frank!

Naturally I could only keep my best gay pal to myself temporarily. All the girls at the agency befriended him and wanted his attention. So much so that when I got laid off Luis didn’t even call me to see how I was doing. I was so mad and I played the game of “I’m not calling him. Let his gay Brazilian butt call me.” Later I found out that with all the layoffs at our agency he was worried because his Visa had expired. He knew if he came forward he would surely be let go.

So about a month later a mutual friend called me and asked if I had talked to Luis. “No, he didn’t even call me after I was laid off…” I started to rant. “Well,” my friend said, “At the advice of a lawyer he told the agency about his Visa and they fired him on the spot. Now he’s being deported.”

Not only was Luis my first gay friend, he was my first illegal immigrant friend! I never spoke to him again and it’s been over four years. I don’t know where he’s living. What he’s doing. Which gay bars he’s frequenting. I’m sure wherever he is, he has plenty of lady friends to take dancing and shopping.

But if anyone wants to hit the gay clubs with me in search of a new gay friend, I’m always up for a little Cher.