An anecdote of culture shock. This happened about 6 years ago.
To understand the following, you gotta get that in the queer culture I live and play in, young queer women who are of the butchy variety often dress in clothes usually reserved for young men. Except, with their size and feminine features, they are often not only mistaken for actual men, but sometimes fairly young ones -- like, 17 or 18 year olds, even when the woman in question is, like, 40 or something.
No, I don't get why people can't tell they're women, either. They look like women to me.
Anyhow, I, who at the time am 30 and femme-looking, am in a large chain store with two women age 22 and 23, respectively. They're both wearing baggy jeans, baseball caps, and have short hair.
I check out my purchases, and my friends (in line behind me) are laughing and playing with some of those silly stuffed toys you see near check-out lines. I say to them "I'm going to bring the car around. See you out front?" and I leave.
As I'm putting my key in my car door, a woman storms up to me.
"You can't do that, you know! You can't do that to your children!"
Aroo? I look around. Who the hell is she talking to?
"I'm going to report you! That's what I'm going to do. That store cannot babysit your kids!"
I stare at her, searching deperately for some meaning -- any meaning. What?
She continues, getting all spitty, with shaking finger and all... when in the distance, I see my butchy friends leaving the store, baggy pants and all. Suddenly I get it, and begin whooping with laughter.
Yes. That's it, lady. I have two toddlers in their twenties, one is taller than me, and the other has larger breasts than I do. How remiss of me to leave them alone for a second.
Honestly. Did she even look at us?
Posted by Elaine at February 6, 2006 07:30 PM