THE GAY GORDON
I was at a ball on Saturday. Studiously sober, I might add. I was however, engaged in light conversation by a rather attractive, if expensively upholstered, lady at our table.
"You look like a gay boy with that ring on your little finger."
Later in the evening she asked me if I would have a mind to steer her for a couple of circuits around the parquet.
"Sorry, darling. Gay boys don't dance."