I Do, I Think: A Little Pre-Marital Counseling
Here's another pointed musing from Christopher Stevens
I don’t know about this marriage thing. I’m all for it, don’t get me wrong – I just don’t think it’s been thought through, regarding either the nature of the married state, or its effects on gay “culture.” Doesn’t it strike you as odd that Massachusetts legalized gay marriage, and within weeks BLÜ closed down? Did you think that was just because it had gotten DÜLL? It may be that it was done in by its own umlaut (which are dropping like flies in this town), but I think it’s because everyone got married, and started staying home to argue about money and prune the aspidistra. We all know the formula. People get married and they stop going out. If the government actually encourages us to couple up, it could spell the end of the bars. Come to think of it, it could be a Republican plot.
And what about folks in menages a trois? Unless the Mormons take over, you’ll only be able to marry one person at a time. Which two of you get hitched? And what do you do with the third? You could just keep him on, except then you two licensees are both cheating, which is wrong. Or you could adopt him, but then he’s your kid and that’s just sick.
But the main question is this: So we’re married – Now what? Everybody’s on this race to arrive at the marital state, but they’re not looking past it. Well, since the only model we have for this is the straight one, the next logical step in gay marriage is gay divorce. Hadn’t thought about that, had you? The term “bitter divorce” is about to be redefined in a big way. It won’t be like it has been, oh nosirree. No more secretly moving all your belongings out while he’s at work, or tossing his on the curb and changing the locks. No more tucking away items before telling the boyf that you’re heading for the greener side. No, if you want that multi-disc Donna Summer compilation, you’re going to have to negotiate custody. In court. You will have to engage and consort with (goddess help you) a lawyer.
Even a shotgun wedding is quickly performed, and ends only in more of what’s obviously been going on already. A shotgun divorce is probably even quicker, but the results are rather icky. Dealing with a lawyer is, nine times out of ten, more pleasant than a load of buckshot to the brain, but either way you end up with a bloody mess.
So you’ll have to solicit a solicitor, attach an attorney, conspire with counsel. The results (looking at the straight example) will not be pretty, but I’m betting the lawyers will be. Just picture the ads. There he stands, shirtless, except for his school tie. Firmly muscled, waxed and moussed, and holding a pen, or perhaps a gavel, in a suggestive manner. “Divorce? Alimony? Deadbeat Daddy?” reads the text, “See Corey at Shuttlecock and Battledore, Attorneys. He’s LONG on experience and HARD on the competition!”
Or it may be a drag queen in a severely tailored suit, with shoulder pads three feet wide, and crimson fingernails that you can just picture in your beloved’s eyes. “You Will Survive!” screams the ad, “Whether it’s beating, cheating, or he’s just getting a little plump, it’s time to dump his rump! Call Judi-Sherry Harridan – THE GOOD-BYE GIRL!”
Oh my goddess, I just had a terrible thought. What if the government gave us the right to get married, but secretly omitted the right to get divorced? How horrible would that be? And, once the news leaked out, how many of us would tie that Gordian knot? Of course, new couples, like new parents, look at everyone else’s messes and swear they can do it better, and not only do they not do it better, they don’t even do it different. Does this mean we shouldn’t have the right to get married (and divorced)? Not at all. But, “easily in, but not easily out,” said the lobster in the pot, and that pretty ring on your finger may yet turn into a rubber band around your claws.