I moved back to Texas during a downturn in the oil industry and couldn't find work in my chosen field. Since I am not a welfare queen, I managed to find a job as a waitress at a private club. The women and men who worked there were attractive and fit (yes, I was at the time), because that is what private clubs required for their clientele.
A young man I worked with and also partied with afterwards, was a great dancer and a wonderful conversationalist, I adored him, but not in "that way". His roommate used to pick him up after work. This would be around 3 a.m., sometimes later (or earlier, depending on how you look at it).
Anyway, one night this roommate of his was sitting at the bar moaning and groaning about how late it was. I'm thinking to myself what a jackass he is, so of course I must say something to my friend. So, I take a moment and catch him aside and say "Damn, Albert. What is Johns problem? He's acting like your friggin' girlfriend or something."
He looks at me, wide, incredulous eyes and says "Kay! You don't know I'm gay - that John could well be considered my 'girlfriend'?" I'm perfectly shocked. Never saw it. Maybe I didn't want to.
Well, about that time, the Manager, now my husband, walks up and there is some exchange I don't remember that ended with my future husband telling my "newly" gay friend to kiss his butt. Wherein said friend says bare it, wherein future husband turns and prepares to do so, with me immediately shouting NO! STOP! HE'S GAY!.
I truly liked this man. We had conversations afterwards, about his homosexuality, about AIDS, promiscuity, why he chose the homosexual lifestyle, how his parents felt.
There is more to this story, but suffice to say, that in the end I could not overcome my disgust. This was well before the overt activism we see today, but an eye opener nonetheless.