Transvestites

What a beautiful creature.

I think I was first aware of them when I read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil I don't read books too often any more (unlike my 5 star member status in Book It when i was younger), but when i get a good one, it usually sticks.

Situated in Savannah, GA in the early 80s, the book is based on real-life events surrounding the murder of playboy Danny Hansford (i love this: characterized as a "good time not yet had by all"). Jim Behrendt (the author) heads down to Savanah nearly a year after to get the skinny and yeilds a really good book.

Considering the deep south an overtly conservative locale, one character, in particular stood out: Lady Chablis.

Whenever I read a page with her script, my brain automatically slowed my speach to a sweet, black lull. I had imagined what she could be like, and was blown away when the movie debuted in 1997 (it sucked, btw) with the actual Lady Chablis starring as herself. I know you can usually spot a man dressed in drag from a mile away, but it still baffles me beyond all recognition how Miss Chablis had maintained a more petite, feminine body than most women I know.

She set a high bar of standards when considering Transvestites in the future (who knew).

I saw my first, real-live, in-person mangirl just after my 23rd birthday at the Snakepit. I was slightly buzzed in the bathroom listening to a girlfriend rattle on about a relationship she had had (or not had) with my current boss when a tall, buxom blonde with a 9 o'clock shadow walked in to adjust his/her pantyhose. I was enamoured with her vibe. I felt like I was looking back on myself at the age of 12, changing in front of 20 other girls for gym class.

Are my boobs too big? My gut's fat. Look at her stretchmarks. Look at my stretch marks. I wonder if anyone noticed my thighs...

I could see the second-guessing... the slight uncomfortableness for her being in the girl's restroom (cool trick, guys). Kind of like she knew we knew she was a little out of place, but no one was going to say shit. Then she adjusted her wig, reapplied her lipstick and strolled out behind me in short skirt and heels, martini in hand (because ladies drank free) and posed by the DJ booth. It made the insecure girl part of me totally want to be friends with this chic who had balls (literally) enough to say f' it and do her thing.

I'm sure most of you in big cities are thinking - where have you been? We've got this her, her and the list goes on to make this seem very common... but coming from rural South Dakota where Gay is a four-letter word and African American's are ratio-ed about 1:50,000, I'm not suprised.

My bestie even mentioned she spotted one in little Rapid City, SD.
Ladies... we love ya!