Surreal Opening Night

I’m in a play currently. I’ve done a few of these over the past few years. It gets me out of the apartment and provides me with a creative outlet. I like to think I’m an amazing actress — after all, I played the part of a guy for over 40 years, and no one suspected differently. I’m also quite good at hiding my emotions.

I’m currently in a musical called A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. I play Tintinabula, a courtesan. A courtesan is a fancy whore. In any case, last night (Friday June 7) was opening night. The show sold out, and we received a standing ovation at the end. After the show, a bunch of us went to a bar near where I live, where there was karaoke.

I love to sing karaoke. You’ve been warned.

In any case, I sang a song, and I was on my way back to the table where my fellow cast members were seated. I was stopped by a blond seated at the bar with a guy. Her “friend.” Background — last time I was at this bar, a group of people insulted and misgendered me. Anyway, this woman stopped me to tell me how great my breasts look. And she told me how “brave” I am. The guy she was with was “just friends,” as she had a husband at home. She told me she’s bisexual, and her husband doesn’t understand it. She asked if she could “motorboat” my boobs.

At this moment, a guy stopped me. He was dressed in a denim cut off jacket that looked like “biker colors.” He wore a leather cap, had a scraggly beard, and maybe 3 teeth. Oh, and a swastika tattooed to his neck. And an 88 tattooed to the back of his right hand. Among other tattoos. I was wearing my small handbag (thanks Sandy!) in which I was carrying a knife that I normally carry in my other bag as well. I expected trouble.

I was wrong.

Turns out, he wanted to talk to me about his brother, who came out as gay a couple of months before. This brother also loves to do drag. So this guy wanted to know if his brother was transgender. I explained to him the difference between trans and drag. I asked what group was represented by his “colors.” He said that it was actually a “gun club.” He noticed me looking at his tattoos, and told me that he’d renounced Nazism, because they wanted to “hurt” his brother. He realized how narrow minded the group was, and how dangerous Hate can be. All of this because his brother came out to him.

I was impressed. Here was a guy who was obviously still trying to wrap his head around this new reality. He loves his brother and defends him, but that was contrary to his world view, so he knew he had to adapt. Instead of attacking his brother, he knew he had to change. I told him how I’d misjudged him by his appearance. He laughed. And he bought me a beer.

This guy wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but had the wisdom to know that his life changed, and he had to change as well. How many of us can say that? I told him I was impressed, and he told me he was impressed by me. “It takes balls for you to come in here like you do.” He then told me that if anyone in that place had a problem with me, then they had a problem with him. He would defend me.

I don’t “pass” as a woman. I know it. People know I’m transgender, so in some ways I am an “ambassador” for the community. Sometimes this bothers me — I have to be “on” at all times. But this guy . . . he showed me that sometimes, just sometimes, it can be a good thing.

I was glad I was able to help this guy to try to Understand his brother. Does he know that he helped me more? Probably not. But he did. Hearing his story taught me something about people that I’d forgotten. About books and covers.

I left around one a.m. He left as I walked through the parking lot, roaring away on his motorcycle into the night.

I walked home through the quiet night under the light of a Cheshire moon.

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Tags: featured, Identity, respect, Transgender

Category: Transgender Body & Soul