{bazima.com}

Dear Bazima,

Two new guys have moved in a few doors down from my apartment. Actually, I think they moved in a year ago, maybe more. I'm pretty sure that they're gay, though I don't know if they are together or just friends or roommates. The point is, I've lived on this block for ten years and they are the only people I've ever felt like I wanted to be "neighborly" with. We pass by each other sometimes and nod or say hello, but it's all very reserved and fleeting. I'm not even entirely sure which building they live in. Call me a fag hag, but I really want to meet them. Any thoughts as to how to go about it without seeming like a total freak?

Dear Fag Hag,

First, how do you know that they're gay? Are they left-handed? Are their index fingers longer than their ring fingers? Did you check their whorls? They probably already know you want to be friends with them because The Gays can usually sniff out that sort of thing. It seems to me that you have a few choices, though I'm not the best person to help you with the not-seeming-like-a-freak part. Still—trust—I'm not throwing you out to the wolves here—these are the things that usually work for me.

1. Next time you pass by them on the block introduce yourself using some sort of opener like, "Hey, I see you all the time, but we've never actually met..."

2. If you don't already, try hanging out at the local gay bars. When they walk in just be all, "Omigod, I was hoping to find y'all here!"

3. Buzz their apartment and ask to borrow a cup of sugar or some poppers. Since you're not exactly sure which apartment is theirs you could just buzz each one you think might be theirs and ask for The Gays. You could also stand outside the suspected building with a boombox over your head, playing "Fuck The Pain Away" by Peaches, and watch them come running to the window out of sheer curiosity.

4. Put on a wig and a red dress a la Valerie Perrine as Miss Tessmacher in the decoy scene of Superman: The Movie. Start screaming for help, complaining of sun stroke, and then hurl yourself in the middle of the street. Sure, all the other neighbors might come our of their apartments too (emphasis on might), but just shoo them away, saying with shortness of breath, "No, no, you can't help me! My boys! Where are my boys?" until the men in question appear standing over you like the Gods of Ishtar to carry you safely across the desert heat into their apartment to feed you grapes and mojitos and fan you with ostrich feathers until you feel much better. Then have a dance party.

Hope this helps!
xoxo Bazima