Enya face, the white light and coffee jitters

Dear Rachel,

I have been living a closeted lie for something like 30 years now. I am a massive fan of Enya. Like, I would own a special wardrobe for Enya concerts the way other people do for Gaga or Guns N’ Roses. But I don’t feel like I can share this fandom with anyone. It’s not just “we like different music” for my friends who love metal or rap. If I, a fairly burly dude, piped up to say I like Enya, I dread that record-scratch sound as the room goes dead silent. Is it worth it to out myself? Might there be more Enya-heads like me out there?

– Orinoco No-no

Dear Closet Celt,

If the Dead have Deadheads and Jimmy Buffett has Parrotheads, I think your gang has to be called Enya Face. Because that’s the kind of swagger you’ll need to pull this off. You’ll never know what other macho men feel soothed by the Irish tones of the Celtic Siren until you out yourself. So you just need to do it like this: “I like Enya. Enya face!” Then strut home and watch the end credits to “Fellowship of the Ring” with whoever joins you.

– Outya bad self, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

As I walk on the streets of Durango and come to a stop light I see the following for cars and trucks. The colors are great with red, yellow and green. I push the button to go across the street and I see a red hand to say stop, and then a white guy to say go. I ask the question: Why a white guy? Green is for go, so why white? You might have to be a detective to find out. I say it should be the Jolly Green Giant, and go before the red numbers tell you get moving to get to the curb.

– Jay Walker

Dear Whitey,

Clearly this demonstrates another insidious plot by Anglo men. That little light should be black or brown if it’s to be truly inclusive. Green would be a nice non-denominational color, except it prejudices color-blind people, who are predominantly male, which just goes to show how deep the Illuminati are in the traffic light game. 

– A walking rolling stop, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I need desperate help to determine the difference between a friendly coffee invite and a potential-date coffee invite. I feel like coffee straddles that plausible deniability line if it turns out to definitely not be a date. But because it’s also not clearly a date, it turns into this game of chicken. Is either of us going to try to find out? Or are we going to sit back and ignore the ambiguity into oblivion? 

– Murky Waters

Dear Thick of It,

Ah, the non-committal coffee get-together. I mean, if it’s any time after 6 pm, the intent is clearer. But there is no legitimate way to tell the difference without asking directly – and when has that ever worked for anyone? My best trick is to fish for something vulnerable. If the person across the table will fess up to liking Enya, they’ll have no shame in showing themselves naked.

– Pour some sugar, Rachel