h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I can spot a homo a mile off, me. I can look at any crowd of people and go: "gay, straight, straight, gay, in the closet, undecided, straight...," and so on. Gothly asks me how I can be so sure when I haven't actually asked any of them about their sexuality. Well, I don't have to ask, do I, because I *know*. My gaydar is infallible.

My recent train jourey to see my family was a point in case. Somewhere behind me in the carriage, I could hear a gaggle of camp Scousers. They were playing disco music on a laptop, much to the disgruntlement of the other passengers, and were chattering in voices reminiscent of the drag queen Lily Savage. Fragments of their talk reached my seat:

"See, I'd never think to do that, because I'm yer best mate, I'm yer man. I'm not gonna go, 'well, 'e's more 'andsome, so I'll go off wi' 'im;' whereas for wimmin it's..."

"I love yer Ma, acsh'lly--I thought she were like a princess, all sorra..."

"Yer Da can look out fer 'isself, but yer've gorra look after yer old queen, I always say..."

Yup. Camp as a row of tents, and gay as they come.

I wandered off to the toilet during a lull in their chatter. Two men emerged from the cubicle, and we all sort of smirked at each other. They had been smoking a sneaky fag in there, something which, normally, only women do together in Britain. When I got back to my seat, someone had nicked it, so I took the vacant table opposite the camp Scousers. I had assumed there were four of them, but they turned out to be the two men from the toilet; it's just that one of them had been talking enough for three guys, interrupting himself and talking over himself with real flair. He reminded me of Shakespeare's Mercutio: he was gaunt and graceful, foul-mouthed and jocular. The cups of lager at their elbows went some way towards explaining the state this Mercutio was in. His companion was a quiet and deliberate man, whose drunkenness was evident only by the broadness of his smile. I later learned that he was a member of an elite Army corps; he looked like the sort of guy you see in those posters, covered in engine oil and holding a tyre.

I was taken aback when Mercutio's first words to me were to suggest that I had sat there in order to chat them up and to decide which of them I found most handsome. I denied it, of course, so Mercutio noisily told himself off for thinking such things, and introduced himself and Tyre Guy--first names, surnames and nicknames, and some stuff about how they had met and moved in together.

"But we're not a gay couple or anythin'," he added.

"Are you sure, now?" I asked.

They laughed, in a couply way.

It transpired that Tyre Guy had a girlfriend ("an' I'm 'is best mate," interjected Mercutio), and his interests were literature and endurance training. ("'E lives on top of a mountain, an' 'e's got this great big bedroom in the attic, an' we kip there, don't we, Tyre, with it all open to the stars an' everythin'.")

"So tell me, Sweetpea," said Mercutio to me, "why've you got such long 'air in a plait like that?"

Lately I've had a lot of anti-semitic comments about my long plait.

"I hate hairdressers," I told him.

He cracked up laughing, and shook me by the hand. Then he said, "I take it yer a Jew, what wi' the hat."

"No, I'm not a Jew," I said. They both gawped at me in open astonishment.

"You're not a Jew?" said Tyre Guy, in a fetching Welsh lilt.

"Yer pullin' our legs, aren't yer?" demanded Mercutio.

"No," I said.

"Yer really norra Jew"

"No."

"Worrar yer, then?"

"Atheist."

"ATHEIST" they cried in unison.

"Yes."

"He's a Catholic," said Tyre Guy wickedly, gesturing at Mercutio. Mercutio denied, vehemently and at length, that his religious upbringing had anything to do with his beliefs, and he told me, "I don't mind if yer a Jew, anyway."

Ho hum.

I pointed out that it's male Jews who wear the brimmed hats. Mercutio considered this, then said, "Yer absolutely right. But I thought you was some kind o' mad hippie Jew... And listen, Sweetpea, don't get me wrong, yer a lovely lass, like, but yer need some conditioner on that 'air o' yours."

He interrupted himself to launch into an account of Tyre Guy's dad thinking that he, Mercutio, was gay because of his long hair. I smiled pointedly at Tyre Guy's close-cropped head and said, "I thought the current gay fashion was for really *short* hair."

Tyre Guy grinned back at me, and Mercutio declared, "'e's not gay. 'Is Dar'd knock 'is block off if 'e thor' 'e was gay."

"You shouldn't wear ripped jeans to Caerphilly," Tyre Guy chided Mercutio; "they'll tear them to pieces."

He hooked a finger into a hole in Mercutio's thigh and tugged gently at it to illustrate his point. Mercutio babbled some slurry protestations.

"Looks like you'll be carrying him home," I observed.

"In a fireman's lift," agreed Tyre Guy. Mercutio began to wax lyrical about how Tyre Guy was sure to heroically defend him against jean-maulers in Caerphilly, and then sling Mercutio over his shoulder and carry him up to the house on top of the mountain, "'cos Tyre cares about me, 'e does, 'e's my man!"

He draped an arm across Tyre Guy's shoulders and gave him a squeeze as the train pulled in to their station. They switched off their disco music, and an audible sigh of relief floated around the carriage from the other passengers. Both men shook my hand warmly as they said goodbye.

"I don't mind if yer a Jew."

And I don't mind if you're straight.


Maybe I am a Jew and I'm just in denial; but to be on the safe side, I got my sister to give me a makeover. My hair is now fully conditioned, and styled, and I've had about six inches lopped off the bottom. She did a brilliant job. Now to find a milliner...

*mirth*

> "Now to find a milliner..."

I don't really see this "you must be jewish" thing which you keep getting. There are probably worse hats (for associational reasons) though, eg "hoodies". Would this hat get a similar anti-something-ist reception, or just be seen as silly and thus safe?
http://www.sillyjokes.co.uk/images/dress-up/acc/hats/sequin-marabu-devil-horns-tie.jpg

You could always add a small pitchfork to the ensemble...

Thanks for the suggestion, but previous experience leads me to suspect I'll get a lot of Shining Wits yelling, "it's not Hallowe'en, ya know!"

More to the point, it wouldn't keep the rain off my glasses.

Deswald (whose house I'm at now) thinks it's very me, though. So carry on with the suggestions; we might eventually find something that works.

SEF, have I shown you what my current hat looks like?

Great piece of writing as usual.

Thank you, Kaz.

I haven't had a hat picture from you recently, Snailrind. Then again, I don't know how frequently you change them.

How about a hard hat (with brim to keep that rain off your glasses)? They come in quite a range of colours these days (including pink, judging by the images google returned) as well as having various logoes and slogans, one of which might suit.

Anyway, it's like a less curly version of this one: http://www.getahaton.com/proddetail.php?prod=4221&cat=22

I can't find a picture of the hat I was remembering from a fair/festival (and in which I thought you might look adorable), but I did run across this one while looking:
http://www.haidacorp.com/haidaart/photos/photo7.html

I seem to spend most of my time on h2g2 waiting for SEF's posts to appear. At least that link wasn't removed; I should be thankful for small mercies, I suppose.

SEF, something tells me you're not taking my search for a new hat altogether seriously.

I've got a big ostentatious straw hat, actually. It's black, with a huge brim and a black rose and a bunch of net on it. I haven't had any insults about that one: mostly people just crack up laughing as I walk by. Some stoned teenagers photographed me with their mobiles, but didn't shout anything nasty. Unfortunately, it doesn't work well in wind and rain.

Today I wandered into a hat shop in Streatham and tried on a whole load of hats, but none of them were quite right. There were some I really liked, like the rasta hats, and bowlers, but I knew I'd get stick off people for wearing those in North Wales.>

In the end I bought myself a coat: a very non-jewish-looking brown dufffel coat. Now the worst I'll get, with any luck, is, "you haven't got a marmalade sandwich under that hat, have you?"

Marmalade...

The kids still love to watch Paddington Bear! The rental place has one single copy, on tape, and the first episode is sooo worn out, but they still like it!

My hat seems to make people think I'm a Mormon or other strange Christian sects... Or an undertaker.

It looks just like this one http://www.gothic.uk.com/acatalog/tophat.jpg only I added some black-feather-and-sparkly-ribbon "trim" to it.

oh yeah forgot to make mention http://www.millinerwarehouse.com/ to assist you quest for hat.

So it's not just me, then! Odd how black brimmed hats are associated in people's minds with religion.

I used to have a hat like yours, but gave up wearing it because I was getting so much anti-semitic abuse off people. It helped, until I moved house; everyone in this village seems to think I'm some kind of evangelist, Jew, witch, or Satanist. The name-calling has got worse over time, particularly by the secondary schoolkids, and it's been getting to the point where I've been nervous about leaving the house, and if I see anyone in school uniform approaching I turn round and go straight back indoors.

I've stopped wearing hats altogether these past few days, and have felt much safer. I've been going around in my tan coat with the hood up, and nobody has recognised me. A couple of days ago I walked past a taxi driver I've known for years; I was inches away from him and I caught his eye, and he completely failed to register that it was me.

It's nice to go out and about without being hassled, but I feel very grumpy about having to behave as though dress code is the law. In Beverly Hills and, I think, some parts of Israel, you can be arrested for wearing the wrong sort of clothing in the street; I used to think the rest of the world was more enlightened, but apparently not.

As for the milliner warehouse, I doubt I have the skill to make my own hat. And if I did, I'd make one to a design that nobody's ever seen before, a design I'd love but which would get me a whole load of unwanted attention from strangers. *sigh*

If society allowed free rein on looks, I'd have smurf-blue skin and a Salvador Dali moustache. One can dream...

On the bright side, having much shorter hair is proving hugely practical. When sitting down, I'm no longer in danger of scalping myself by leaning forward; I only have to tie it in one overhand knot to keep it out of the way; brushing it is way easier, because it isn't longer than the full stretch of my arm; and I can turn over in bed without getting all tangled up in it. Yay.

But can you do the Princess Leia earphones?

I could do one earphone.

Actually, I could do with learning some styles for long hair that work in the wind but aren't a puritanical plait down the back.

Anyone?

If you braided in some ribbon(s), or added silly hair-grips or fluffy elastic bands, it wouldn't look puritanical any more!

Is a bun out of the question? What about the braid turned into a bun - or looped (as per another Princess Leia style?)?

With a really stiff braid, looped and attached back up, you might be able to look like a teapot - especially with a little lid of a hat on top.

As I sit here waiting for your post to appear, SEF, it occurs to me that I should probably have said, "some *sensible* styles."