Picture a
morbidly obese man walking down the street with the smallest possible dog. The dog, as I imagine it, has little stumpy legs that give the impression of fluttering as it scurries to keep up with its owner. This vision appeared to a co-worker when he was flipping through
ring tone options.
The
ring tone, a fruity little number with (literally) bells and whistles that inspired visions of fat men with dogs waddling about town, was the
ring tone the coworker chose. It is this same
ring tone that, for others in the office, proved once and for all: The
ring-tone-coworker is gay.
I'd say it was a Sherlock Holmes moment, but for these coworkers, there is no
mystery to explain to Dear Watson. There was no real "Aha!" moment. The
ring tone's evidence of gayness is too obvious to require further discussion. Like police who had all the evidence to a murder. The suspect was put in jail. Then they found the murder weapon in the suspect's pocket. Clearly, we're not surprised.
It's as obvious as finding a fully intact dead body with a
name tag on its lapel that read "Hello My Name is Jimmy Hoffa". It couldn't be more obvious if this corpse would animate to slap your face silly if you or the medical examiner try to say he might be Paula or Jusef instead.
Yep. Gayness is now worn in your pocket in the form of a (bad) musical alert. Finally, a gaydar system that actually works!
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