Five twenty-something homosexual cliché’s and a camera crew arrived at my house this morning. It was unexpected, but I’d seen shows like it before, so I did my best to be a good sport.
They toured the place first, critiquing my choices in clothes and décor. I tried not to let it hurt my feelings. I liked a lot of the things they threw out, but I knew I’d never considered such matters seriously, so I suppose it was no wonder that my home was not up to par, fashion wise.
Afterward, three of them stayed behind at my home as the other two took me shopping, and to get my hair styled. A lot of talk was exchanged about patterns that flatter my physique and colours that went well together.
I tried to keep up with what they were doing, but fashion really is a little bit beyond me. Still, I like what they did to my hair, and it was nice to get a little colour in my wardrobe. A few of the pieces they picked out for me I’d wear, for sure.
After the afternoon out was done, they took me home. They dropped me off in front of my house, and as their car pulled away, I opened my front door to see the changes they had made.
And that’s when I realized they had robbed me.