Guess it’s time to toss the Cuomosexual T-shirt in the trash.
New York Governor Andrew Cuomo once the toast of a pandemic-riddled town is now himself toast.
President Biden has called for him to resign after a report detailing the Governor’s sexual harassment was released on Tuesday.
The very phrase Cuomosexuals has a sinister feel now.
After New York State Attorney General Letitia James announced the results of her office’s investigation into allegations of sexual harassment by Cuomo, not too many women are going to be identifying themselves in that way. Other than the slew of female victims of Cuomo’s unwanted sexual advances providing an eerie twist to that term.
He was once such a heartthrob.
At the height of N.Y’s COVID-19 Pandemic women fell head over heels in love.
Sequestered in our lonely castles, I along with millions of women across the country was swept away by his calm, steady and sure appearance during his daily television COVID briefings. In the midst of unspeakable darkness, he was our knight in shining armor.
A man we could trust.
Beginning in early March it was must-see TV. In an age of streaming and binge-watching shows this was appointment TV at its most addicting. Telephone calls stopped. Zooms were postponed. Social media was interrupted.
Cuomo was praised for demonstrating leadership. And in his occasional casual attire, we couldn’t help admiring his strong arms even as we hotly debated the appearance of a nipple ring. A cult was born.
Cuomo was the anti-Trump we desperately needed.
We were vulnerable. Scared and alone, Andy was there for us. When Donnie dismissed the severity of the virus or suggested we ingest Clorox to knock out the Coronavirus, Andy calmed us, held our hands, looked us in the eye, and told us the truth we needed to hear.
Even if as N.Y. residents like me we knew better. Even if rumors were rumbling about sexual misconduct we chose to ignore it.
But Cuomo quickly morphed into the good boyfriend we longed for, the steady reassuring protective husband we wish we had. Sharing folksy stories about his family, he offered us a seat at his regular Sunday meatball dinners. Seated right next to the “Boyfriend.”
Women swooned. Women wanted to cook for him. Take care of him, this lonely bachelor. Women wanted to be with him.
Cuomosexuals were born.
The term Cuomosexual was first popularized by satirist Randy Rainbow in his brilliant song “Andy” set to the tune of Grease’s “Sandy” with the line “I identify as Cuomosexual.” Andrew’s appeal crossed all genders and sexual orientations.
The internet was smitten too. The term took off with hashtags praising his efforts.
Hell, he even went on the Ellen DeGeneres Show in the spring of 2020 approving of people who identified as Cuomosexuals, embracing the term. “Yeah I think that’s a good thing,” Andrew told DeGeneres smiling from his home. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
Fans flocked to Etsy shops who were churning out Cuomosexual hats, mugs, and sweatshirts. There were also Cuomosexual duvet coves and pillows for those who really wanted to bed the Governor.
Now women are coming forward with assertions that Randy Andy awkwardly tried to bed them. The investigation found that Cuomo engaged in inappropriate groping, kissing, hugging, and “touching intimate body parts” with multiple women creating a toxic and hostile workplace.
St. Andrew of COVID, our savior now has fallen from grace as he joins that legion of men in power charged with sexual harassment.
Unlike Elliot Spitzer, another randy N.Y. Governor who resigned in disgrace after a sex scandal, Cuomo is defensive, arrogant, tone-deaf, and out of touch with what sexual abuse is, taking a page from the Trump playbook, digging in his heels in a state of denial ignoring calls for resignation.
I take no great joy in this.
Suffice to say, I am deeply disappointed. At the same time, I am deeply outraged at the legion of Republicans whose equally bad behavior seems to eternally get a pass. That part of the Trump playbook seems to elude any Democrat who has sexual harassment allegations against him.
It’s sad to discover some Democrats have clay feet, but the Republicans are miraculously endowed with Teflon genitals. And that just can’t stand.
You can be assured Trump and his pussy-grabbing, locker room talking, underage trafficking cronies may be having a good chuckle over Andrew Cuomo’s fate, but it is time we hold their own clay feet to the fire.
Or grab ’em by the balls and hold them accountable too.