Location x 3

Let me set the scene for you. I’m out with some friends of mine at a hipster new place in the gayborhood. [For you locals: I happen to like this place a lot. It’s called 100 Wines and I have been there a couple of times.] There’s a 45 minute wait. It’s got low lighting, craft beers, lots of wines, small plates, cool French modern looking decor. You got it?

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At some point in the meal, I excuse myself to go to the restroom. No worries. First, it’s a single ladies room – so there’s no stress of being inside the restroom and someone freaking out as I come in. Second, I’m in the gayborhood. There are lots of gays here. Tons. Safe. Right? Wrong.

Coming out of the restroom, relaxed and refreshed, I was not on the defensive. Not prepared, as it were, which I normally would be. I open the door and exit the restroom. There’s two women waiting outside. I hear one say as I round the door to walk away, “That’s a man obviously, right?” Stop. Whirl on my heel, I walk back to her very quickly, place my hand on her upper arm for her attention and reply staring her in the eyes, “No, and I can hear you.”

Without waiting for any reply, I whirl around again and stride off standing as tall as I possibly can. I was shocked. Who the hell does she think she is? Where the hell does she think she is? I mean literally, most of the patrons here are gay. It’s not like I was the only butch in there. WTF?!?

I slip back into my seat and spill the story to my boys immediately. It comes out in one gush. They listen supportively, appropriately shocked and indignant along with me. Bless their hearts, they share similar embarrassing stories. You have to love good friends.

During this, and quickly after my return, the manager who had been near the two women, comes up beside me. She is mortified and apologetic. “We try so hard to make sure all are welcome here,” she says. “I’m so sorry that woman treated you that way.” I explain that I hardly ever say anything when it happens and that I thought I might’ve been a little rough. No, no! She assures me that I handled it gracefully and with class. More apologies and well-wishes and she leaves us to what’s left of our trendy, hip dinner in the gayborhood.

Getting confused or sir’d happens to me almost daily. I am used to it. I just returned from an attempted trip back east (I say “attempted” because Hurricane Sandy had other plans) where I had stops in Charlotte and Dallas. I expect to be sir’d in these places. In fact, I basically passed as a dude during the entire trip. No problem. And, no offense taken when I did get sir’d.

But put me in my own office, or my gayborhood and you better watch-the-fuck-out if you accuse me loudly of using the wrong bathroom, and think I can’t hear you when you practically scream it.  I guess it really is all about location.

It’s butch to not punch an insensitive (and rude) straight woman in the face in the gayborhood. Be butch.

About Tristan Higgins, aka Butch Jaxon

I am a butch. This blog is about what I think. If you do not know what butch means, you are probably on the wrong blog. In the interests of inclusion, though, I can tell you that “butch” means a lesbian that is big, strong, tough, more macho, less girly. Of course, there are no hard and fast rules – which is an ongoing theme in my blog (and in the comments), but those are the basics. A butch will most likely not wear makeup. A butch is often referred to as “sir” by someone who is not paying attention. What else? I am, after all, not just a butch. I am happily married to the most amazing woman ever, and the mother of two fantastic kids. I am also a lover of, in no particular order, beer, bow ties, breasts, movies, hiking, bookstores, travel, dogs, geocaching, polar bears, the gym, music, gadgets, and more. By day, I am an intrepid corporate entertainment lawyer. Although I try hard not to be labeled as such – sporting a bleached Mohawk, for example. Think more entertainment and less corporate. By night, bring it all on! In my blog, I talk about things from a butch perspective, but this is not just for butches. We all love our femmes. Please do not let me offend femmes, mine in particular! If you like what you read here, I hope you will comment and let me know what you think. If you do not like what you read, well, what the hell do I care? Start your own blog. Be Butch. View all posts by Tristan Higgins, aka Butch Jaxon

10 responses to “Location x 3

  • Ms.M

    I totally agree, If she is not somewhere like Ohio or something I just don’t see how people can be so rude and ignorant … If you are unsure do not comment ugh! As a femme I would totally slap a b*tch for saying something like to my butch. I encounter the same crap when showing off pics of my new love interest like my straight women saying “your dating a man?!”

    Like

  • Kelly

    Hey Butch,
    Well done all around. I agree with you every beat of this post. Awesome that you confronted the rude lady and for not punching her. This also happens to me and like you said, being in the gayborhood, you werent prepared. What really pisses me off is that we have to be prepared at all. What pisses me off even more is the passive aggressiveness of speaking so loud so we can hear it. That’s what makes me want to punch someone. I understand the curious looks. I was raised to be polite and not pass judgement. That rude b*tch failed both. I think you handled yourself impeccably and even earned another stripe of honor.

    Like

  • JV

    ONE more reminder why I not only look forward to my next blog post from you, but why I just like you so much…. yet miss seeing you so often…. I will take what I can get… I certainly hope that at some point, if not now, that this “lady” will think about her comments and it’s effect…

    Like

  • Fabulous Mommy

    I dream of the day when inciteful people create unisex bathrooms in public places.

    Like

  • Sheila Gilhooly

    And i love how the rude ones insist on calling it the “ladies ” washroom..like they’re afraid of the word woman..I always agree with them really fulsomely about the ‘not a lady part’..sometimes get a smirk from another patron,,I
    In the old days I’ve had armed guards (men of course) brought to the scene to remove me,,a lot of fear of the different you think ?

    Like

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