femme?"
"Neither. That's a joke. It's too early to tell because you still act straight. You have to be out a little longer before these subtle nuances take shape."
"Why are you always telling me what I'm going to become and what I'm going to think? How do you know?"
"You can bitch at me now, but later you'll see."
This time Kate kept si!ent.
-"This is the Duchess," Molly said, dragging Kate in past the craggy-faced Israeli bouncer charging cover at the door.
"See how the windows are painted black?" Molly narrated.
"It's nostalgia for the mud."
They had to pay a five-dollar cover, even though it was a Wednesday night and there were only three people in the whole place besides the bouncer.
"This dive is world-renowned for being overpriced and for having flooded bathrooms. There is usually some girl on black beauties breaking up with her girlfriend over the pay phone. It happens so often I used to think it was the same girl and they put her on salary for atmosphere."
"So what's next?" Kate asked, sincerely wondering.
They ended up at Tracks, a three-story gay entertainment emporium in the middle of nothing over by the river. At the front door was a sign clearly posted: This Is a Gay Bar for Gay People.
"It's gay-owned," Molly said. "Unlike some of those previous establishments. This is a chain. They have one in Washington, D.C. I think they have one somewhere else too, like Texas.
It's kind of like a homosexual Howard Johnson's. But it has one thing in common with all those squeezeboxes and Mafia-owned dumps."
"What?"
"It's overpriced."
But it was inside that Kate found another difference.
"There are so many black women here," she said after ten minutes of fascinated silence. "And they're so incredibly dressed up. I would never think half these women were gay if I saw them walking down the street."
"Why not?"
"Well, they're just so elegant."
"Femme, you mean. You think the butches look gay and the -femme ones don't."
"I still don't see which is which."
"It's like when people first looked at Impressionist paintings and they couldn't see the water lilies. You'll get used to it. Here's a shortcut. Which ones are you most attracted to?"
"That one," Kate said. "That woman is really beautiful. Look -at her.
Look at her mouth. And her, with the leather earrings.
Oh, look at that tall one with the long legs and red plaid kilt.
She's gorgeous."
"Those are all butches."
"Even the one in the skirt?"
"Yep, now you know how to tell."
They danced for a while but mostly stood around.
"That woman over there," Kate said. "That woman is so -beautiful I can't believe it."
-"So, ask her to dance."
"I can't do that."
"Of course you can, Katie. This is a lesbian bar. That's why we're all here."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!'' But at that minute a young strawberry blonde in a leather --miniskirt and silky cream top came over and asked Molly to dance instead.
Kate watched them for a while, the way they picked up each other's rhythm and figured out how to move together. They figured it out rather quickly.
What do you know? she thought. Molly dances hot with everyone. It's not just me. That's the way she dances.
And for the first time ever, Kate felt jealous.
"Excuse me," she said, cutting in abruptly, "but I have to dance with my girlfriend." And took her to the floor, noticing -immediately that Molly's arms went around her neck.
Then Molly announced one last stop.
"Where could we possibly be going now?"
"Shopping."
"At one thirty in the morning?"
"You know this city never sleeps. Anyway, it's a vintage gay porn store. You know that necessities stay open later than frivolous indulgences."
Kate felt one second of resistance before walking
"Neither. That's a joke. It's too early to tell because you still act straight. You have to be out a little longer before these subtle nuances take shape."
"Why are you always telling me what I'm going to become and what I'm going to think? How do you know?"
"You can bitch at me now, but later you'll see."
This time Kate kept si!ent.
-"This is the Duchess," Molly said, dragging Kate in past the craggy-faced Israeli bouncer charging cover at the door.
"See how the windows are painted black?" Molly narrated.
"It's nostalgia for the mud."
They had to pay a five-dollar cover, even though it was a Wednesday night and there were only three people in the whole place besides the bouncer.
"This dive is world-renowned for being overpriced and for having flooded bathrooms. There is usually some girl on black beauties breaking up with her girlfriend over the pay phone. It happens so often I used to think it was the same girl and they put her on salary for atmosphere."
"So what's next?" Kate asked, sincerely wondering.
They ended up at Tracks, a three-story gay entertainment emporium in the middle of nothing over by the river. At the front door was a sign clearly posted: This Is a Gay Bar for Gay People.
"It's gay-owned," Molly said. "Unlike some of those previous establishments. This is a chain. They have one in Washington, D.C. I think they have one somewhere else too, like Texas.
It's kind of like a homosexual Howard Johnson's. But it has one thing in common with all those squeezeboxes and Mafia-owned dumps."
"What?"
"It's overpriced."
But it was inside that Kate found another difference.
"There are so many black women here," she said after ten minutes of fascinated silence. "And they're so incredibly dressed up. I would never think half these women were gay if I saw them walking down the street."
"Why not?"
"Well, they're just so elegant."
"Femme, you mean. You think the butches look gay and the -femme ones don't."
"I still don't see which is which."
"It's like when people first looked at Impressionist paintings and they couldn't see the water lilies. You'll get used to it. Here's a shortcut. Which ones are you most attracted to?"
"That one," Kate said. "That woman is really beautiful. Look -at her.
Look at her mouth. And her, with the leather earrings.
Oh, look at that tall one with the long legs and red plaid kilt.
She's gorgeous."
"Those are all butches."
"Even the one in the skirt?"
"Yep, now you know how to tell."
They danced for a while but mostly stood around.
"That woman over there," Kate said. "That woman is so -beautiful I can't believe it."
-"So, ask her to dance."
"I can't do that."
"Of course you can, Katie. This is a lesbian bar. That's why we're all here."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!'' But at that minute a young strawberry blonde in a leather --miniskirt and silky cream top came over and asked Molly to dance instead.
Kate watched them for a while, the way they picked up each other's rhythm and figured out how to move together. They figured it out rather quickly.
What do you know? she thought. Molly dances hot with everyone. It's not just me. That's the way she dances.
And for the first time ever, Kate felt jealous.
"Excuse me," she said, cutting in abruptly, "but I have to dance with my girlfriend." And took her to the floor, noticing -immediately that Molly's arms went around her neck.
Then Molly announced one last stop.
"Where could we possibly be going now?"
"Shopping."
"At one thirty in the morning?"
"You know this city never sleeps. Anyway, it's a vintage gay porn store. You know that necessities stay open later than frivolous indulgences."
Kate felt one second of resistance before walking
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