It's been a long time since I lived in the Castro. It was by far my favorite neighborhood in the city. Very open and welcoming, and so great for people watching. I think it's easier on straight women than on straight men and Xav was never truly happy there. But Janis, my best friend who lived with us for awhile, and I, were very happy. I'm pretty sure that the neighbors had mis-figured us out: Janis and I for the couple and Xav for the roommate.
The Safeway at Castro and Market was my favorite supermarket. With its long, narrow aisles it was not what you could call safe, but it was fascinating to me because that is where most of the transvestites shopped. The actual transsexuals, those who had crossed over and made a real commitment, shopped at the Diamond Heights Safeway, a very boring store, which if you've known a few transsexuals makes sense. But the transvestites, who seemed to like attention - shopped on Market Street. And so did I.
They liked to shop late at night, so I had to change my schedule to make sure I came across them. It was not unlike a treasure hunt, and when I would find them, I would forget my shopping list and follow them downthe aisles.
Don't get me wrong, this was not a make-fun-of-the-strange-men kind of thing. I loved them. I wanted to look at them, to really see them, to understand them. I wanted to see their clothes, their makeup, their hair. Most of all, I wanted to teach them how to walk in high heels, something very few seemed to able to accomplish and something that always betrayed their status, no matter how good they were at the rest of the disguise. Perfect eyeliner, check. Perfect outfit, check. Toes crossed, walking on the heels of their feet, check. I could charge money for this. And in the '90s, I would have made money.
[this is good]
Posted by: Little Odd Me | 03/06/2010 at 04:11 PM