Poppin' My Cherry

or something like that...i was gonna call this blog California Dreamin' (hey, who doesn't love the Mamas and the Papas even if Mama Cass died while eating a ham sandwich, I guess it could've been the coke (the white horse, cocaine) but I digress-- and YES, I KNOW THAT'S JUST A RUMOR but it makes for good copy. I am a PhD. candidate in Performance Studies at NYU and I work as a bouncer at gay bar downtown, I used to work for a lesbian bar and now I am temping...I like to keep things interesting. I'm a spoken word artist, and a lover of ladies as well as a bon-vivant ;) I saw an old lady once with her underwaera down to her ankles lying sideways in the handicapped bathroom at the lesbian spot I used to work at. I helped her up and fixed her wire-rim glasses- Lennon would have been so proud to see his influence extended to drunken lesbianas in downtown NYC- IMAGINE ALL THE PEOPLE....anywho, back to my story. She kept asking me to put her back in her bed, that she was comfortable sleeping. "what are you doing in my room? Who let you in?" huh? and then she started getting angry and slightly belligerent in her drunken stupor. She turned and asked my manager-" who is this man?" "why is he here helping me?" I realized that she was talking about me. That I was THAT man and that once again I was being shunned by someone in the lesbian community. That the only butches they wanted to see and accept were the ones on the L Word that either wore make-up or were delivering UPS packages with their futchy ponytails. That no matter how well I had taken care of this older Latina womyn who looked like she could have been my aunt, she only saw the masculinity that womyn shunned in the '70's. I did not fit the profile for the '70s man-hating lesbian. I cut my hair short, and wore men's underwear, and shaved my legs, and had nicer eyebrows than most femme's...but I don't hate men, and the last tree I hugged was rolled nicely into a phatty. So, put down your hairy-arm pitted fists my '70s predecessors and hug me, but not too close unless the deoderant includes some anti-perspirant. I am just trying to earn a living by checking ID's and if I have to help some old senora up from the bathroom floor when she's had one too many, than so be it, but if you are going to sit there with a look of distaste and give me 'tude, than I will do what I did to her- Hail you a cab, shove yor stumbling ass in a cab and wish you the best of luck explaining to the cabby where I live! At least I put you in a cab, who says chivalry is dead?!