Geek in the pink

Those that know me know my stance on the color pink. I love it. It's probably my favorite color and I'm a proud advocate of men wearing this color on a regular basis (having daughters suits me pretty well). My theory is that it's unfair to allow women sole custody of the color pink when there is no equivalent for men. Women wear blue; they wear black; they wear red and brown and any other "macho" color you can think of. So by men everywhere refusing to wear pink (and some even refusing purple) we are denying ourselves our god given right to bask in the soft, warm glow of red and white's love child. For the girls baby shower I bought myself an electric pink polo. Not so much hot pink as it was a "power" pink. Gina bought me a pair of pink converse before the girls were born and I rocked them in through their delivery and the entire hospital stay after (I busted them out again for their first birthday). So my point is guys everywhere should not be afraid to don the color. Yesterday was probably the exception. I was wearing said polo and the guys at work gave me the usual ribbing, but it's expected and it gives me a soapbox on which to pitch my point to which they generally have no response (by the way my office has 15 guys and one lone woman so they feel empowered in their pink attacks). At the gym on my lunch break the greeter at the front desk told me she loved the pink, then noted I must be well endowed to wear it so boldly. I took the compliment and then conveyed that a 6'4" 220lb guy rarely receives guff from strangers no matter what color his shirt. So I was feeling pretty good. Until I went to Home Depot. Home Depot is not the place to wear your pink polo. I might as well have been in heels the way I was glared at. My god, men, it's just a color. They're all in sweats from 1972 and shirts that haven't fit them in 15 years, covered in paint and grease, and they're the ones questioning my sense of style?! I don't know why dudes get so rilled up. I once took Gina for her birthday to see Legally Blond the musical up in LA. Rightly so I wore a pink shirt with my black tie and suit. I'm holding the hand of a women 6 months pregnant with twins as we walk down Hollywood Blvd and someone screams a gay slur at me. I swear, guys have some real pent up issues with pink. Anyway, I pick up the lumber I needed and as I get to the cash register I notice a bin with bouquets for sale. It's been a while since I brought home "no reason" flowers, so I pick up some roses. The guy at the register stares at me and, with a smirk asks "are you trying to coordinate?" It's only then that I notice the flowers are the exact same color as my shirt. I tell him "yes, yes I am" and my face suddenly blends with the rest of me. It would have ended there but somehow when I measure I forgot to write down the all important "1" at the beginning of my sequence so I ended up with a 55" piece when I needed a 155" piece. ... just a little off. I returned to the store 3 hours later (changed now in to some manly, bland colored work cloths) and got the same attendant. I tried not to make eye contact, and I didn't think he recognized me, until he let out a "gave up on the pink, huh?" I had nothing. I paid and left. But damn it, I shall don the color again. And some day. ... some day. ... I'll walk the aisles of Home Depot as one pink shirt in a sea of pink clad men. OK maybe not. But that doesn't mean I'll give up hope.