It hadn't been long since my return from a weekend getaway with the sweetheart when I received a text from my beloved roomie about her upcoming/unexpected date. I must admit that the female side of me still gets all giddy at the thought of friends going on the first date. This exciting news was followed up by a “The boys are going to check him out. Want to go?” text. Hell yes! And from there the technical details of the covert op were set.
The boys, as they are referred to with love, are three of my gay male friends. We’re quite the group, all the males are gay with the token lesbian (me) and my roomie (the only heterosexual in the bunch). The boys wanted to check him out for several reasons, and so did I, but for purely protection/curiosity reasons.
The roomie arrived and began her date with mohawk boy (who, I might add, can rock a mohawk!), and the boys and I followed shortly after. Now, I am currently calling New England home, and having grown up in the South, perceived this place to be... “progressive.” Of course, every place has it’s exceptions, just like there are progressive places in the South. However, I was still caught off guard by an interaction that occurred during this covert op.
Their date was at a local cigar shop/bar. I’ve been once, but since I’m not a fan of smoke, it’s not my top choice for a place to hang out on a Monday night. It’s almost 10:30 pm when I walk in with the boys, and we are immediately carded. Having sold alcohol before, I could appreciate this request.
The last time I had my driver’s license renewed, I think I was a either a freshman or sophomore in college. It’s an understatement to say that a lot has changed since then. In my picture I look...different. Long hair, younger face, and not to mention my name is very feminine. In real time I look more androgynous, and sometimes referred to as “sir.” I have a male style haircut and wear male clothing, but I still look rather feminine in my facial features.
The last time I had my driver’s license renewed, I think I was a either a freshman or sophomore in college. It’s an understatement to say that a lot has changed since then. In my picture I look...different. Long hair, younger face, and not to mention my name is very feminine. In real time I look more androgynous, and sometimes referred to as “sir.” I have a male style haircut and wear male clothing, but I still look rather feminine in my facial features.
I hand the woman my driver’s license and she looks at the card, looks at me, looks back at the card and after what feels like forever, hands me back the card. Ok, I get it, no problem, seriously, thank you for checking. No problem, right? Well, it gets better.
We grab a table a couple of yards from the bar where the roomie is all smiles with mohawk boy. It’s quite cute, really. The boys begin discussing something about something, and we decide on coffee and tea for our drinks. The boys order their coffee and dirty chai while I make my decision (as though it might be a hard one). Of course, I decide on the chai, and make my way to the counter to order. No one is there, so I wait. The woman who carded us walks back up to the counter, sees me waiting to order, and walks away. I keep waiting. After some time passes with no service, I go back and sit down with the boys. Now, I’m not one to accuse someone of denying me service because I’m queer-ish, but not too long after I arrive back at the table without a drink, one of the boys goes up. Yup. You guessed it. She took his order.
I get it. When you decide to break social norms you can expect various reactions. I either look like a gay boy or a butch dyke. I challenge heteronormativity by having a female body that loves another female body. I challenge gender conformity as I behave and appear androgynous. I get it, but what I want people who encounter me to get is that I am still a person.
I hate going into public restrooms because I get the strangest looks. Part of me wants to expose my “angry lesbian” side, but the truth is, I’m fearful of my safety at times. It’s not safe to be gay or gender defiant. However, not expressing my sense of self is a greater threat to my life as a healthy and whole person. I’m not expecting people to agree with my choice to express and break social norms. I do, however, expect to be treated as a person, as a customer.
To the woman in the cigar bar: my money isn’t gay or a gender bender even if it is in my man wallet, and believe me, my difference isn’t as threatening as your lack of compassion.
To the woman in the cigar bar: my money isn’t gay or a gender bender even if it is in my man wallet, and believe me, my difference isn’t as threatening as your lack of compassion.
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