A few nights ago, Gail and I attended a CD meetup in Green Bay. It was wonderful, CD's and trans women of very stripe, just enjoying each other's company and visiting. No judgment. No strife. It was peaceful. Serene. Full of beauty and grace.
After the event, as we headed the 40-odd miles back home, we decided that we weren't quite ready for the night to be over. We discussed options and settled on the place where Gail works, a bar in a bowling alley.
While at the meetup, I had my fill of wearing a bra, wig and heels, so I shed all of them as soon as we left. At this point, I still have a full face of makeup on, a ballcap and ballet flats, along with my black lace dress and metallic silver tights.
Upon arriving at the bowling alley, I grabbed a makeup remover wipe from my makeup case and we headed in. I walked into the bar and headed straight to the men's room. Once inside, I took off my cap and glasses, and proceeded to wipe off as much of my makeup as I could. Just then, I heard the door to the bathroom open and a woman's voice saying (shrieking, really), "Oh my God what is that?"
Things deteriorated from there. I was already irritated at the shrieking woman who dared to poke her drunken head into the men's bathroom (if a man had done the same to the women's bathroom, he'd likely be beaten and turned over to the police, but I digress...), so when I left the bathroom to return to Gail, the continued calls of "What is that thing?" put me positively on edge. I paused in front of a woman, presumably the one who had been in the men's room doorway moments before, looked her straight in the eye and simply said, "Yes?"
Of course, the 5-6 drunken idiots in the group said nothing at this point, so I turned and headed toward the end of the bar where I thought Gail would be. Gail wasn't there. She was in the ladies' room, as it turned out. I wasted no time walking out of the bar and back to the safety of my car. I texted Gail to let her know where I was and did my best to calm down.
People can be ugly and judgmental. Most people keep their hateful comments to themselves, but bolstered by alcohol and like-minded idiots, the mob mentality takes root and things spiral out of control. I knew things would get ugly and/or physical if I had stayed, so I'm glad I left when I did. I don't know how many boozed-up bigots it would have taken to kick my ass, but I know how many would be trying, and that's some helpful information to have on hand...
I'm not an overly emotional person under most circumstances. I am not blessed with an abundance of feelings. Once my anger subsided, all I really felt was pity. Statistically, every member of that drunken mob knows at least one crossdresser, whether they know it or not. Given the attitudes I experienced that night, I can understand why the crossdressers they know would rather be skinned alive than admit that they crossdress.
I've been fortunate. Everyone I've told about my crossdressing has been supportive, to one degree or another. I genuinely feel for those poor souls who live in the closet due to the primitive attitudes and boorish behaviors of their friends and family. I also feel for the bigots themselves. Their hearts are cold and dead. They take joy in ridiculing those of us who are different and choose not to hide it. They are small, insecure and ugly.
