Standing there in the parking lot after the delightful little neighborhood weekly drag show, I was thinking about what a strange grouping we made. There was frumpy vanilla straight ol’ me, probably 15 years older than everyone else in the crowd. Then there was my best friend, R, a reserved gay male as big as a Mack truck. And then there was Bobby. Sweet Bobby. Mildly retarded, full of energy, never met a stranger. He kept flitting off into the crowd to hug people, then he’d come back for a time, only to disappear again. He may not have been Einstein, but Bobby was all heart.
The parking lot was crowded, because the thing to do after this show was mingle. So mingle we did. Before long, one of the headliners, wearing a peach silk bathrobe, cut through the crowd as if parting the red sea. She wanted to meet me. I haven’t a clue what I had done to deserve such attention, but there you have it.
But for some reason her idea of flirting was to pick on Bobby. She made fun of the way he talked, the way he moved, and the things he said. She intentionally confused him and laughed about it. She expected me to laugh along with her, like a comrade in cruelty, but I didn’t. She invaded my personal space and offended my sense of compassion.
The next day, R and I were discussing our night out (as you do), and he said, “That girl was really into you! What was her name?”
“True,” I said. “Her name was True. I remember that distinctly because when she said that, I remember thinking, ‘False’.”
“Why, because she’s a tranny?”
“No, darling, because she was a b****. I don’t care if you’re L, G, B, T, Q or purple with pink polka dots. If you’re not a nice person, I’m not going to like you.”
See how inclusive I can be?
The View from a Drawbridge 
I hope you told her she was invading your personal space and offending your sense of compassion. If she’s just being true to who she really is, she might not care…but you would feel better. 🙂
Well, back then I avoided confrontation at all costs, so I stuffed it. Now, I’d say something. I still wouldn’t enjoy it, but I’d say something.
I’ve been there…didn’t like that me much. How sad that speaking our truths risks potential confrontations. Still too many people unable to accept others differences without feeling personally threatened. But, that’s their issue…mine is how to be true to myself in spite of the risks.
It’s probably never going to come naturally to me, but I am learning to stick up for myself as readily as I’d stick up for others. I am definitely a work in progress.
Still not comfortable, but once I stop shaking and give myself permission to not feel guilty, I like myself a whole lot more than when I played doormat. Some damage done to us as children takes a lifetime to undo…We are perpetual works in progress. At least we are progressing. 🙂
Indeed we are, Lyn!
Best! post! ever!
Really? What did you like about it?
Because I have always despised people who despise people for no reason other than what group they were a part of.
Ah. Well, I’m an equal opportunity despiser. 🙂
just do it on an individual level
definitely.
right