“I could pretend to be your wife,” my friend offered sincerely.
“Do you really think that’d work?” I asked, gesturing up and down my Britney Spears shirt with quick elevator hands. “Who would ever believe that you’d willingly marry this?”
Her “proposal” came as a kind — but risky — offer to mask the fact that we were both queer on a potential visit to Iran, the country both of our families emigrated from. I’ve never made the voyage, partially out of fear of traveling as a gay man to a nation with brutally harsh laws, including the death penalty, against homosexuality. My friend, though, has made the trip before while carefully pretending to be straight.