Stone Butch Blues

Since I had no words to bring the woman I loved so much, I gave her all my tenderness.

After the bar closed we’d walk down the street, pretty tipsy, one of us on each of Jacqueline’s arms. She’d throw her head up to the heavens and say, “Thank you, God, for these two good-looking butches.” Al and I would lean forward and wink at each other and we’d all laugh for the sheer joy of being who we were, and being it together.

I need to go home to you tonight, Theresa. I can’t. So I’m writing you this letter

“I feel like a ghost, Edna. Like I’ve been buried alive. As far as the world’s concerned, I was born the day I began to pass. I have no past, no loved ones, no memories, no me. No one really sees me or speaks to me or touches me.”

For the moment her arms protected me from my own life.

Her touch felt so good that tears welled up in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.

of a sudden, everything got real quiet. The cash registers stopped ringing and nobody moved. Everybody was staring at the jewelry department. There’s this couple—a he-she and a femme. All they were doing was looking at rings, you know?” Angie sat back and exhaled slowly. “Everyone was glaring at them. The pressure just popped those two women out the door like corks. I wanted to run out after them and beg them to take me

Angie glanced over at an older pro who was paying her check at the register. “You know,” she told me, “When I was a little girl I remember being in a restaurant with my mother and stepfather and I saw a woman who looked something like her.”

“Will you still respect me in the morning?” she demanded.

“Will you marry me?” I asked her.

We both laughed and hugged each other, but the sad thing is, I think we were each kind of serious

”

Angie shook her head. “It’s tough when you see it coming, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said, “it’s like driving on a single-lane highway and seeing an eighteen-wheeler heading right for you