Grinnell Queer Eyes: The roommate and Wyatt Earp

Welcome one and all! This is a column pertaining to pretty much all things queer. From the campus world to beyond, 20-gayteen is in full swing and it is about time someone did some hardcore reporting on it. Where better to capture my rants and opinions than in the school newspaper? My goal is for this column to remain anonymous and create space for discussion. To accomplish this, there will be an accompanying “Ask” so that people can submit questions and it can almost turn into my dream “Gossip Girl” scenario (disclaimer: I have never seen this show I don’t know what I’m signing up for). Stay tuned for a variety of interesting excursions into the depths of my gay mind, and feel free to submit your own content for inclusion at

The Roommate

This weekend, pre-Harris, as any bored gays may, my roommates and I embarked on a game of “would you rather?” heavily featuring queer celebrities. It was determined that in a scenario where myself and Steven Tyler’s daughter were on the table, my current partner would in fact chose Steven Tyler’s daughter whose name none of us can figure out. In fact, she had more trouble deciding between Megan Fox and Steven Tyler’s daughter than when I was in the mix. After these interesting insights that I will reevaluate at another time, we dived into the mysterious romantic interests of my third roommate who I believe only exists between the hours of 12 a.m. and 1 a.m., frantically working on her homework or chopping vegetables. Now this noctural being has been a close friend of mine for the last few years but somehow I overlooked her flannels and love of women and came to the conclusion that she was as straight as they come. Granted I also thought I was straight for 18 years but, I mean, everybody makes mistakes. Everybody follows a lot of queer women on Instagram thinking that they want to dress like them when in fact they may want to date them. So even though I was successful in determining that I was actually not straight and in love with the entire U.S. womens’ soccer team, in regards to my roommate, my gaydar was completely and utterly broken. Unfortunately, there is not a shop to get it fixed, but whenever I feel it going haywire I just binge watch some Ellen clips on YouTube for a few hours and peruse my local Hot Topic to feel better. Either way, I am blind, and in all reality my roommate is just as in love with Waverly Earp as I am (this is my fav queer tv show rn; the tumblr fandom is my life #thankyouCanadad). I don’t know how the Midwest can even use the word “west” in its name if y’all don’t know who Wyatt Earp is. I have told so many people about my obsession and they’re like “ … who?” If you all didn’t drive 45 minutes once a month to the Wyatt Earp Pie shop in Black Canyon City then how can you call yourselves part of the west? This is going to be important when Domonique Provost-Chalkley runs around the whole damn city killing demons and taking care of her sister’s magical gun. You are all welcome for this information.

Thus, I am absolutely full of nonsense so if that is what you are looking for in terms of literary entertainment, tune in. If not, I apologize in advance, refunds available at the front.

— Gaylord Phoenix