MY BIG RUBBER BUTT! Adventures of a transgender comic (part 8)

People were streaming into the club at a steady rate, as the siren of a fire-engine heading up 8th Avenue broke the relative calm. It looked like it would be a full-house tonight.

I knew I had a good 15-20 minutes before the show kicked-off, before they neeeded me downstairs.

I'd already checked-in with Rich Woods and Eric Hanson, who were busy scheduling the line-up. They knew I wouldn't stray far.

I was nervous, and I was restless. I needed to breath.

But, I wasn't afraid.


I looked at the buildings surrounding me, the cars going by, and the people on the street as they passed, and I imagined myself as Lauren Bacall.

And, I smiled. A crooked little smile.

The same smile I had when I approached Carson Kresley, at the after-party of the GLAAD Media Awards in New York City, just a few weeks before.

He was being corraled by a couple of fans, and he did not look at all comfortable.

I approached him, directly, moving across the room. I excused myself to those gathered, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "Carson, I don't want an autograph, and I don't want to waste your time. All I want is a hug".

The conversation around us stopped. He smiled at me, and immediately threw his arms in the air. "Oh, honey", he said, putting his arms around me, "you are so easy!"

I squeezed him. I thanked him. And, I left him.


And That's how you make a memory, I thought to myself, standing in front of the club.

That's Why I wasn't afraid.

Me and my crooked smile just needed to breath.