The Story Behind...
A Different Pair of Queens

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Um, not that anyone asked... but... just in case...

I was in Gowanus, I was in Downtown Brooklyn, years ago. I'm gonna say 2008, 09. I was going to a new venue called the Bell House. I was going to a concert by the Posies, they were going to perform their 1993 album, Frosting on the Beater. I left work regular time, six or so. Gowanus was about forty minutes by the R train from Midtown Manhattan, not too far, doable, I would just have to get home somehow after the show. Home was just more Brooklyn, more south.

4th Avenue, near President, Union, wasn't the happenin' place it was now. I walked off the train before seven, was cold, was meeting my friend at eight-thirty I had time to kill. I passed something called the Lyceum, I walked up 4th Avenue, dark, full of apartment buildings, closed auto shops and warehouses. I walked towards 5th, busier, brighter. A couple of bodegas, empty-looking storefronts.

I needed some place to hide for a while.

I finally came to a place, looked okay. I didn't want to go in but it was January, it was freezing. The main reason was... I was alone, I don't do alone good. I have a social thing, not a big thing, but a thing. 'Gingers Bar' had a big sign out front, I went in, it was quite dark inside. I could tell no one was happy to see me, I was part of the Bridge and Tunnel crowd, too-old, too-male, too boring to be out in the middle of an up-and-coming former Spanish neighborhood.

I was a little uncomfortable but at least the bar was empty, I could hide in the corner. There were two women in tanks at the far end, another bigger woman on a rotary phone maybe drawing, doing something with her hands. She was probably drinking a Pepsi.

"Um, can I get a Sam Adams?"

The bartender wasn't happy to see me, I'm guessing she wasn't happy to see anyone so I didn't feel special. She had tiny glasses, tiny eyes, her arms were crossed and I couldn't read her t-shirt.

"Not here."

"Oh, okay, I'll drink anything but Heineken," I smiled she turned away. She came back with a cold glass of, hold on let me remember the taste, oh yeah Heineken. I could tell she was teaching me a lesson. It was before the craft beer boom, life drinking beer wasn't as much fun as it is now.

I drank slowly, I didn't want to interact with the pissed-off bartender again. I had nothing to read, I think I had a flip phone, I parused the take-out menus strewn on top of the bar for company. More people came in, another couple of women sat in the back at a table, two more sat across from me. No one was leaving, must be an okay place, no one was drinking either. Three younger men then came in and sat next to me. I nodded, they sat a stool away.

The one closer to me was black around twenty-five or so, he knocked on the bar in front of me. "Well look at you sightseeing, ha. Well at least by yourself." He laughed some more, while I made a confused face. I didn't care, I didn't have to pee, but I still had to kill another forty minutes. I figured maybe I better order another beer, I would have bought the three guys next to me drinks just to show I was sociable, I would have given the bartender a big tip, but instead, I think the light above me went off. They were trying to get rid of me, I think, I might have been paranoid. This happens to me when I do anything by myself in a public place, I start to feel singled out, my heartbeat starts to race.

I needed to focus on something, thank god the three guys started talking, of course, I listened. I was really nosy. Finally, something was going on at this dark bar with the bad beer selection.

"So she says to me, she says it with a straight face. She says Sand' it's good that you never hid this dressing and makeup thing you do." Sand' the guy at the other end, wearing a yellow shirt, said this to his friends. "It's good you showed us these routines and stuff when you were a kid."

"Who Melia?"

"No, come on my mother, Melia she can barely hear. But listen, she says to me, me and your dad are so glad you are not one of those crossdressers or transvestites who don't tell anybody, they are the worst."

"What?"

"This is what she is tellin' me. We are all in the dining room eatin' burgers, and this is what she brings up in front of the neighbors, in front of Melia."

"So what, she's happy you do Drag, what's the big deal."

"Well I might do Drag but I'm still cross-dressing. No? She tells me she hates crossdressers, she says they are bad for the family, she saw it on some talk show or sumthin'. Says she recorded it, we can all fuckin' watch it together."

"Yeah, that will be a great night in."

"Yeah, it's probably all that sneakin' around, ha, bad for the family, ha." Finally, the guy next to me was getting involved, he was being too quiet.

I was glad I listened, I was kinda fascinated, I wanted to throw in my opinion. I had been crossdressing since I was nine, but I bet they wouldn't even believe me.

"Hey, would you like another beer?" I turned, I was distracted, there was a new bartender. This one looked like she liked bartending.

"Oh no thank you I have to go, I'm goin' to a concert," I pointed behind me, "But, thanks." And I gave her a tip because she talked to me.

I listened to the three guys contemplate the existence of TVs and CDs and TS's, then they moved on to queens and gays and lesbians, Italian delis, auto shops, and consignment stores. I wasn't as fascinated anymore. I didn't have a personal investment in the rest of the conversation. I perked up a bit when I heard Melia's name though.

I had to leave, it was getting late. I only said goodbye to the one guy next to me and the new bartender. I thought about what Sand' said. I thought maybe his name was Sandy, Sanford, I thought about his mother. Wait maybe, Sangia? I thought about the conversation at the bar the entire walk to the venue, maybe half a mile away, it was all the way on 7th Street. I thought about it while I watched the Posies play their album. I thought about it while I took public transportation back to my neighborhood. I was thinking it was such a weird conviction to have.

Was it because the mother knew that her son was dressing up, it was better in some way? Maybe she was thinking if she stumbled on it by accident it would be worse. I couldn't understand why one thing was bad and the other was better. One was negative and the other was positive. If Sand' wasn't a working drag queen I'm sure the mother wouldn't even know that he wore dresses and heels.

Maybe.

I thought about this for years, it always bothered me. That meant that if you were more sociable, more proud, and so much more assured of your sexuality then that was better. Hiding in the closet like I have done since I was young was bad, worse, well only if you were caught, which of course I had. I had been caught several times, I thought I was a Ninja or part of the CIA, but I wasn't, I was clumsy, nervous, and not too bright. Maybe the mom was right, whatever show she watched had informative writers and observant producers.

Maybe.

I decided to write a story about it twelve years later. Well to be fair I didn't start writing until eleven years later, so it wasn't like I was sitting on this idea, but it was festering in the back of my mind. Some things are there for decades just waiting to be moved around, brought to the front, waiting to keep me up at night. Once I wrote the story, edited it a lot, and read it back a bunch of times, I didn't need to think about it anymore.

I just didn't care.

Let it get into someone else's brain, let it fester somewhere else, or let it be forgotten I didn't care anymore. All I cared about now is if I liked my story or not, did I like the characters, did it make sense. Why did I not use the angry bartender, she would have made a great character, I could have given her a personality.

Or maybe not.

So everything I wrote above this line was what I remember, I embellished the dialog a little, just a little, there was a Sand' and a Melia and definitely a mom. Oh and the concert was great, probably the best one I have ever seen, they had really good beer, an IPA I think, and I was just a little distracted. Just a little. But I wasn't by myself.

Thank you all for indulging me.

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The End

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