New for the Recession: A Nicer You

With the economy spiraling down the toilet I'm noticing that some alpha gays are feigning an emotion that wouldn't otherwise register on their Destroy-Conquer range of functions: concern for others.

Over cocktails this week, some of us A-gays were discussing whom we'd banish from our work lives - those roadblocks to progress who suck the air out of the day with their useless feedback or their brazen politicking. The same conversation last year would have lavished much more attention on the details of how said individuals would be banished: perhaps after a public flogging or escorted out of the building in handcuffs. This year, however, our wish was as paired down as some of our companies' holiday parties: "I don't want that blankety-blank-blank to go hungry or lose their home, I just want them out of my life."

Said, of course, from the side of the mouth, with an eye roll and a sip of a martini.

Malice, the currency of upwardly mobile young gays, is plummeting faster than the dollar. In these times of duress, which are only expected to worsen, those of us who have amassed millions in the bank of our inflated egos are realizing that 1) we're human and as such are vulnerable to the whims of the Universe 2) now is not the time for Destroy-Conquer mode. In fact, we're on "lucky to be here, for now" mode 3) maybe our moms, and Jesus (?) were right: it's not a good idea to wish for other people what you wouldn't want for yourself.

With the preoccupation of being able to keep an overpriced Manhattan flat or that gym membership (and all it's privileges), who has the time to slap a bitch or play sabotage? And is it even worth tempting Karma by wishing for the downfall of others in this precarious state of world affairs?

Through the end of the month, then, expect rainbows and sunshine from an A-gay near you. It's not that his heart has been revived by the holiday spirit, it's not that he approves of you and your Express peacoat or your clunky Steve Madden shoes, it's just that he has bigger things to worry about.

In '09, however, expect "lucky to be here" mode to turn into "it's your job or my Gucci briefcase, bitch." Then all bets are off. But for now, under the mistletoe and the haze of gingerbread and peppermint, expect softness, light and somber reflection.