My fiancé and I plop onto our couch, which has three wooden legs and one made of memoirs we didn’t like. We’re about to watch the reboot of “Queer Eye,” a reality show where five stylish gay men give makeovers to clueless straight guys and, more important, their homes.
It’s our favorite show. We watch, rapt, under a free blanket I got in 2013. Then it hits me: I need my fiancé to physically and psychologically unravel so that he may be deemed unhinged, sad or simply messy enough to get cast on the show and our apartment can get Queer Eyed. I tell him this.
“But every guy on ‘Queer Eye’ has a central, unique problem that drives the episode. What would be my thing?” he wonders, smartly, which already feels like a disadvantage.
I move to a chair that was once in his divorced friend’s basement and offer him some casting-call identity options:
Man who plastered his apartment with Italian flag wallpaper only to take a 23andMe test revealing he’s actually Portuguese.
Guy who suffered a traumatic incident seven years ago — getting eliminated on the third episode of “The Bachelorette” — and still keeps his belongings packed in a suitcase out of constant fear of being “blindsided.”
First straight man obsessed with crystals. You can wear linen dresses and a crown of weeds. I’ll write you a theme song that’s a parody of Night Ranger’s “Sister Christian,” titled “Mister Crystal.” It’ll be a whole thing.
Remember the time you said you wanted a tattoo of a “Simpsons” quote and we almost broke up? Let’s actually lean into that now.
Puppets!!! So many puppets. Puppets leering at me from atop our Ikea bookshelves. Puppets on doorknobs. Twist: You’re a puppet school dropout.
You’re a ’90s-phile who refuses to throw out his CD collection, jewel cases included. We’ll build a CD tower that looks like the Empire State Building. We’ll use scratched copies of Boyz II Men CDs as coasters. Everything will be dusty. You’ll beg him not to look, but Bobby will find a shoe box full of ska mix CDs under our bed. In another room, Tan and Jonathan will dance and dance to “Lovefool” by the Cardigans. I’m really feeling this one.
Guy who only wears oversize T-shirts from blood drives. You’re “the do-gooder who needs to look gooder.” Check your veins, because this one writes itself.
Always brewing-beer-in-the-bathtub guy.
Worse yet: kombucha-maker who says “mother” in a French accent.
Model train guy who sleeps in a caboose.
“Doctor Who” guy who sleeps in a Tardis.
“I only wear elastic waistbands” guy.
Become a D.J.
Combine the last two: D.J. Sweatpants.
Man obsessed with live birds.
Anyone I dated before age 30.
Emily Winter (@EmilyMcWinter) is a comedian and contributor to NPR’s “Ask Me Another.”
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