a most awkward moment

So, the other night was the media/industry opening party for Tunnel club, Vancouver’s newest place to re-enact Amy Winehouse’s “Fuck Me Pumps”. It was filled with people who were totally beautiful and with whom I really had nothing in common. Every once in a while, Andrei and I would say “hey! I’ve seen that person on TV!” or “hey! there’s that DJ!”. It was a mixed bag of c-list MuchMusic-hyped rappers and their entourages. I had one of the most vacant conversations I have had in the past while. Seriously, taking to the barista at La Luna a few hours before was more compelling.
him: “so, what brings you here?”
me: “well, I actually write for…” (this is the point where I get cut off)
him: “oh, you’re a writer?” to his friend “hey this chick’s gonna write a book about me”
me: “what’s so special about you that you deserve to have a book written about you?”
him: blank stare “I went from rags to riches.”
me: “oh. what do you do now?”
him: “I’m a developer.”
me: “oh. so, housing?”
him: “no, more like promotional condos.”
me: “….” at this point I see Andrei approaching “okay, well, have fun tonight. we’re out.”

So Andrei and I decide to go to Odyssey, which has a drag show going on that night. I sit there for a while, and watch all the performers. Being at shows like this really makes me think that mainstream society has a super-archaic perception of sexuality. Taking away the many theorists who have written on gender issues, there is still a very binary view of “male” and “female” in society. We rarely see all the intersections and possible combinations of who/what people can be attracted to, and what turns them on. Although the show was super over-the-top (as they usually are), the drag queens looked better than a lot of the girls prancing around at Tunnel. At least the girls here know that they are putting on a show, and they revel in it. The girls at Tunnel do it without any recognition of how silly their I-just-spent-five-straight-hours-in-a-tanning-booth look is. Anyways, that strays from the point a bit. I was going to tell you about sitting at the Odyssey, while Andrei was out for a cigarette, and about my complete inadequacy when it comes to the recognition and lingo concerning gender. So, a beautiful and tall woman (well, not woman), wearing the skimpiest pink dress ever, sat next to me while Andrei was away. She struck up conversation, and introduced herself as Avalon. I attempted to also be conversational, and proceeded with the following:
me: “so, did you perform tonight?”
her: “um, no”
me: “oh. are you going to?”
her: “uh… no.”
me: “why not?”
her: stares “i’m not a drag queen”
me: “oh. um.” at this point, I was very glad that the club was dark, because I had turned a shade of lobster red.
her: “….”
me: “well, in any case, you look great.” a feeble attempt to save myself from the awkwardness.
her: “thank you.”

so, a lesson learned. There are definable differences between drag queens/kings, cross-dressers, transsexuals, and transvestites (post-op and pre-op). And labeling someone as one or the other without knowing what you’re talking about makes you seem like a douche.