Tuesday, July 27, 2004

A Tranny is Not Just a Car Part

I had dinner at Pepper's last night in D.C. That, in and of itself, is nothing extraordinary.  My BBQ chicken sandwich got its "bbq" straight out of a bottle from the Safeway across the street, my Guinness was served in a plastic water glass, and I actually think I saw the cook slice open the Ore-Ida bag that held my "signature waffle-cut fries."  What made this dinner special was the scenery.

If you weren't already aware, 17th St NW on the other side of Connecticut Ave. is D.C.'s own little Castro District.  Like The Castro, this little stretch of 17th is remarkably clean--even the homeless look showered and shaved--and well-appointed. Rainbow flags and flower boxes dot the stoops and storefronts along both sides of the street.  It hosts a bevy of over-priced, faux-Italian bistro style restaurants that almost dare passers-by not to come in and spend too much for too little for fear they might seem cheap or pedestrian in their tastes.

Coming from San Francisco, what surprised me about D.C.s mini-Castro was the degree to which it seemed a complete cliche of gay culture.  I spent most of my time during dinner people-watching--people dining on the patio around us, people walking up and down the rain-soaked sidewalk, people serving our food.  They all seemed to be wearing their Gay Costumes.  Nearly every single gay man I saw had short, neatly cropped hair and wore tight fade-front BR jeans and a tight sleeveless t-shirt.  I was unaware that sleeveless t-shirts were issued to all gay males once they joined the Gay Army.

I was similarly surprised by the lack of lesbians.  Fag-hags outnumbered lesbians by a good 6 or 7 to 1.  How would I know, you ask?  I'm from San Francisco motherfucker.  I own standard-issue San Francisco Gaydar.  It was hilarious watching these gaggles of people chatting and laughing and carrying on.  Each gaggle had their requisite D.C. gay boys, one super-butch lesbian, and--somewhat oddly--a phalanx of obviously straight girls who think that gay guys just have more fun and won't hit on them (note to straight girls: no one is going to hit on you. Why? BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING UGLY!)

There was one great moment from last night, however.  About half-way through dinner, one of the guys I was having dinner with called over the waitress to get another plastic-cupped Guinness. He started lightly flirting with her because...well...he could.  She reacted like a startled doe.  Her eyes widened and she froze in her tracks.  Apparently she hadn't been flirted with by a man in some time.  This girl was pretty young looking and you got a sense from her reaction to my buddy and to her surroundings that a few months ago she got e-tarded at a Queer As Folk Marathon, hooked up with a girl for the first time, woke up in some house off of 17th Street, and hasn't been able to find her way home since then.  I guess Gretel and Gretel ran out of breadcrumbs. 

The whole exchange felt like a scene from a Lifetime Movie of the Week.  An undercover agent infiltrates the compound of a psuedo-religious cult in order to save a young girl who was drawn in using ill-founded means. He finally gets her alone in  a backroom during work detail and exposes himself to her as one of the good guys who is there to get her out.  I think the awkward silence at our table lasted a good 30 seconds. As we sat there frozen, a woman walked past our table and, in an effort to maneuver around our waitress-en-tableau, clipped my head with her elbow. The bitch just kept walking!  I turned around and stared but she was completely oblivious. Finally, I yelled out "hey lady, usually cold-cocking someone is worthy of an apology unless you're French and don't need an excuse for being a complete bitch!" 

As the word 'bitch' flew from my lips, she spun around and came charging back toward my table.  I wasn't worried until she got closer and I noticed her abnormally deep voice. And her five o'clock shadow. And her Adam's Apple.  Uh-oh.  She started screaming.  She's bellowing at the top of her lungs like an enraged Harvey Firestein. "You are the rudest person I've ever met!"  "I bet you don't even have a girlfriend!" "No woman would stand for someone like you who doesn't know how to treat a lady!"  Mind you, at this point my buddy is nearly falling over in his chair laughing.  I have a screaming transexual to my left and a cackling attorney to my right.  Good times. 

Then she broke out the clincher: "As a woman, I find your conduct abhorrent and reprehensible!"  I couldn't take it anymore. "As a woman! AS A WOMAN!  Dude, YOU'RE A DUDE!  You have facial hair! You have an Adam's Apple! Fuck that, that's thing's so goddamn big you must have an Adam's Apple Orchard.  You sound like the illegitmate love child of Kathleen Turner and Isaac Hayes!  If you're a woman, I'm Marie Antoinette you fucking freak!  Now get your tranny-ass away from my table before I call the tranny police, the manners police, and the fashion police to cart your broken-down ass to tranny jail.  You're a disgrace to trannies everywhere. Get out of my fucking sight."

That put her over the edge.  Now she's bawling and screaming.  The only thing that saved me from getting clobbered and probably sent to jail for assaulting a she-male was the friend I was eating with.  The whole time this tragic comedy is playing out he is bent over, crippled with laughter.  Finally, when I told the tranny that the fashion police were going to cart her broken-down ass to tranny jail he fell over in his chair, hit his head on the concrete patio, and knocked himself unconscious.

Now I have a sobbing tranny on my left and an unconscious attorney on my right. GOOD TIMES!

6 Comments:

Blogger The Bunny said...

But what about the waitress? Did anyone get her number?

July 27, 2004 at 8:26 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

DRex, I know I have said it before, but you have to let me buy you a drink sometime. Your stories, or really your seemingly daily routines, are more book worthy than TMax. Just reading this post makes me want to jump back accross the bay to drink more often at my college haunts.

- SkiGuy

July 27, 2004 at 8:53 AM  
Blogger Nita said...

Now, you must call me when you come in. I'd love to see you at work in the Meat Market district, the latest home of NY trannies.

July 27, 2004 at 2:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

this is craig from Tmax. This is the funniest thing i have read in a very long time.

August 3, 2004 at 5:39 PM  
Blogger Brandon said...

dude that is some crazy shit.

August 4, 2004 at 3:03 PM  
Blogger Bella said...

Next time you're in DC try the Palm... I don't recall seeing any transsexuals last time I was there.

August 4, 2004 at 9:31 PM  

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