There was this one time...

[WomenMoveMe]

When younger, I had a kabillion jobs. Okay, maybe about twenty or so, but a lot just the same. At one point I decided to try my hand at waitressing. It was not that I wanted to carry people's food around, but I had exhausted so many other forms of employment, I decided, why not?

I was living in South Florida and got a job at an expensive restaurant in Golden Beach on the intercoastal. I was paired with another. She took the order, I did the running.

We were busy almost every night. However, one night, it was just insane. I got 'in the weeds' (behind) quite a bit and became a little manic as I tried to catch up. At one of my tables was a very nice, Latin American family. They spoke no English and I spoke no...wherever they were from. The parents were very well put together, with a very handsome son of ten. I know he was ten because it was his birthday and I was to deliver a cake to the table after their meal.

Jittery from the panic of being in the arrears, I was trying my best to get the cake to them. I had to transfer the cake from it's cardboard platform to a raised silver serving plate. I managed that quite well and put the candles in place. I was anxious to get the cake to them so as to tend to all the other patrons that were demanding my immediate attention. As I rushed to the table, cake in hand, candles lit, I sorta slipped or tripped or something and inadvertently squashed against the cake.

It smashed the candles down in to the cake and the writing on the cake that had read, 'Feliz Cumpleanos', now read 'iz pleanos'. My apron now read 'leF muC" in green frosting. I was so behind, I decided to just go with it. As if they weren't going to notice!

I took the cake to the table, offering my biggest and best smile as if that might overshadow this disaster of a cake and they might not notice something was amiss. I offered a quick 'Happy Birthday' as they all just stared at me. They were so sweet they even tried to return my overzealous smile. The father said something and as I did not understand it, I didn't even have to pretend I didn't. It really was kind of a pathetic moment for all concerned and I felt terrible.

I did not last much longer as a professional waitress. Turns out, it just wasn't for me.

[tapu]

There was this one time when I was hiking in Big Sur with a few gay guy friends and we passed by a little straight family headed the other way.

It was hot and both my companions and I were wearing nothing more than shorts, white A-shirts, and hiking boots.

Moments after we passed the family, their little boy, maybe 5 years old, called out, "That one guy was a lady! I know 'cause I saw her boobies!"

[Parker]

My mom and I were just chatting about spirits, etc and it reminded me of how there was this one time, not too long ago, when it was late at night and I was taking out the trash. On my way back into the house, I clearly heard someone say, in what can only be described as a stage whisper, "Help ... me."

There was no one there.

[tapu]

Then there was this one other time, in a Big Sur camp, when my gay-guy friend turned left to go into the men's bathroom, and I turned right and went into the women's.

These two elderly ladies went into and then immediately came flying out of the men's room, laughing and blushing and hiccuping and saying, "Oh, my, we thought that young was a fella!"

In all fairness, my head was shaved and Kevin was a bit of a nelly boy....

[Parker]

lol, tapu just reminded me of how there was this one time when I was living in San Diego and I was at the Ferry Landing in Coronado waiting to head across the Bay to downtown SD but I wanted to visit the restroom first.

I was headed towards the ladies restroom, of course, when this little old woman came out, took one look at me, and then stood in the doorway refusing to let me in because she thought I was a man.

I was about to offer to flash my tits when she figured it out and let me pass.

[Parker]

There were these few times when I was a baby dyke in San Diego hanging out at a lesbian bar, singing Melissa Etheridge's Like The Way I Do at the top of my lungs with a few of my baby dyke friends. I remember seeing the older dykes watching us, smiling that smile - that knowing smile of remembering what it was like to be young and stupid, but fearless and full of energy.

I know that look because I *am* one of those older dykes now, smiling at the baby dykes and the young butches strutting around, cocky - I wish I could go back to that baby dyke that was me and tell her to stop taking shit so seriously, to cut loose a little more, to enjoy where she is at that moment.

Or at least, I wish I could have stepped away from the self-absorption and arrogance of youth and spoken to those older dykes; to hear their stories and thank them for their struggles that made things just a bit easier for me, just like my struggles have made things a bit easier for this generation and their struggles will make things a bit easier for the next generation.

[Parker]

There was this one time when I was in high school and had no idea I was gay (apparently, I was the only one who didn't know ... w/e). I had this really really good friend who was also oblivious to her gayness but everyone around us knew and called us "bosom buddies."

In order to get the bullies off of her back, she tossed it all on me, saying *I* was the gay one and we weren't friends.

To impress upon everyone around her that she was not gay and in fact hated me and all gay people, she decided to carve the word "DIKE" into the locker next to mine.

Oops.

Even then, that made me lol - now, it is my favorite "gay HS" story.



ps ... we're both big ol' butches now