Several years ago I wrote this post about being in need of a ‘mo, also known as a homosexual friend. Brief recap: I had been encouraged to find a ‘mo by someone I met at a college alumni gathering, the idea being that this ‘mo would impart wisdom and be there to support me when I’m having a meltdown at 3 a.m. I didn’t try all that hard to find one while living in SoCal, which may explain some of my poor choices in relationships and footwear.
Nearly 7 years later, I am very happy to report that I have found a ‘mo: my neighbor, Steve.* He moved in a few months ago along with his dog, Daisy*. I liked Steve the minute I met him, and the fact that we were able to have friendly, positive conversations right from the start – even when it had to do with Daisy’s barking (she’s since quieted down and has become a canine pal to me and my cats – well, Ippie, anyway) – was surely a good sign.
The more we talked the more I felt like Steve could be my ‘mo. We would have long text message conversations where we bitched about the Clydesdales, a.k.a. the women who live in the corner apartment and clomp by our apartments at all hours like it’s a runway and they are in heavy platform shoes. We talked about Steve’s decision to go vegan and I told him about a few locals I know who are big on the vegan scene. Lots of fun gossip, lots of potential bonding.
But I didn’t want to rush anything. “I think I have a ‘mo now,” I told Giles. “That’s awesome!” he said. I don’t know that he really understood my need for a ‘mo, but he is an empathetic kind of guy, so he says things like this.
Last weekend Steve & I went for coffee and I decided to pop the question.
“So, a long time ago I wrote this blog post about being in need of a ‘mo.” I started.
“What’s a ‘mo?” said Steve. I was concerned this did not bode well, but I pressed on.
“It’s a homosexual friend who will impart wisdom,” I said, quoting directly from the original post.
“I have never heard that term before,” said Steve.
“Apparently it’s a thing in SoCal.”
“Well, I’d be happy to be your ‘mo, but just to forewarn you, I am not the stereotypical homosexual.”
I jumped up and down. “That’s fine. You just need to impart wisdom. Can you do that?”
“I think so.”
Since then there’s been more gossiping, discussion about the hotness of actors in Magic Mike, the beauty of Matt Bomer, Sacramento life, and food. But my favorite conversation so far was talking a little about Tarot.
“What’s your favorite card?” said Steve.
“The Magician.” It’s all about manifestation and owning your power, so I dig it. “What’s yours?”
“The King of Pentacles.” Great choice – he’s all about practicality, wealth, stability.
I smiled. “I’d like a King of Pentacles.”
He laughed. “Girl, me too!”
Yeah, Steve is the best ‘mo ever.
