Try-Curious
Sometimes, when Dad taught Sunday school, we would stop at the store to pick up snacks. He understood that during a church service that was over an hour long, snacks were imperative; it’s this understanding of kids, among other things, that makes my dad a good father. Usually, we grabbed some French bread and some grapes, maybe some cheese if we felt there was time to cut them into cubes.
I cannot remember what candy the cardboard stand was holding and advertising. It was near the automatic sliding doors, and it was yellow, which suggests Butterfingers to me; this is supported by the fact that I wasn’t very interested, and I consider Butterfingers to be a subpar version of a 5th Avenue Bar. I do remember very clearly what the advertisement said: Are you try-curious?
Dad was deeply offended by this marketing ploy; my little brother and I heard about it all the way home. He went on and on: about how people were trying to capitalize on “the whole gay pride thing”, how the slogan is a play on bi-curious, how horrible bisexual people were and how they couldn’t be trusted. How they could never be satisfied with their one partner, and no relationship with them could ever work, since your head would be on a swivel any time they were around men or women. About how you could never be enough for them.
I tuned this out as much as possible, but I could not stop myself from hearing the words, cataloging them in my brain. I picked at the seats of our Subaru, and watched the red dirt, pine trees, and grassy grazing fields flash by.