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Eli Sanders writes in this week's Queer Issue about going home with a guy, having breakfast with him the next day, and a conversation about normal daylight things—family history, economic circumstance, education, politics—leading to a strange conversation about Germany.

If he had his choice, he would be German, certainly. Germany had been treated shabbily in World War II, he lamented. Its citizens pushed around, its Sudetenland stolen. I don't know how he came to believe that this was the main event of World War II, this victimization of Germany, but he was very bothered.

I told him I'm Jewish. It seemed to have no connection in his mind to a discussion of the Second World War. I teased him, gently, saying—without using the word—that he sounded like a 1940s German nationalist. He told me that's precisely what he was.

I thought: I just slept with a Nazi.

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