This month I hung out at Sadie’s Flying Elephant, a lesbian bar in Potrero Hill. Michelle Tea invited me to hang out their and listen to LGBT poetry. I would wear a hoody, and hide out in the corner trying to be not any one gender at all.
One night a very femme woman in jeans and an light pink leather jacket runs into Sadie’s. She sits next to me and is shaking. The butch bartender with a buzz cut and a peculiar habit of clutching her jaw every few seconds asks, “What’ll it be?”
“Vodka soda, please,” she says in a French accent.
After she gets served her drink, a skinny man with facial hair and a bowl cut slams open the door. He has a burning cigarette in his hands and blows by some butch lesbians by pushing them aside.
“Listen here, cunt,” he says in a French accent, “you come back with me now.”
“No!”
“You come back or we are threw.”
One of the lesbians tells him to leave her alone and he says, “Fuck you, bitch.”
At that point events happened really quickly. He was one the floor saying something about his arm hurting and got thrown out of the bar.