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Now, I know you might find it odd that I know exactly where Springfields gay community is, but Bart started as we hopped off the trolley together.

I was a bit curious, I admitted.

Well, I know it might seem odd, but…uhits Milhouse who always wants to come here, Bart explained implausibly. Yeah, Milhouse.

I shrugged it off and we began to walk down the streets of the hidden part of Springfield, where parents would never let their kids go, where adults themselves preferred to stay away from. The secrecy and supposed scandal that surrounded this community both shocked and appalled me, like so many other things in the world I was born into.

Whenever my family would set foot here, by some chance of wrong directions or whatnot, my dad would start growing anxious and even my mom would seem uncomfortable. But I knew there was nothing to fear or loathe here. These were just people like all of us, no different. I was never less than happy here, except for that day with Bart. That day when I looked like any random, pointlessly apprehensive heterosexual. I hoped people didnt get the wrong idea by the look of trepidation that must have been scribbled across my face.

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