Last night

A good friend of mine from high school and his wife were in town last night from the NYC area. They had a room at a Days Inn in the shifty part of Springfield that I booked for them & the plan was for Scott & I to pick up some Mexican food & beer & meet them there. We didn't make it there until about 9:15, the restaurant closed at 10, T & N met us outside, fretting because they closed in 45 minutes. I found that odd since it was 45 minutes after all, and instead of ordering from the room & having it delivered as planned, they wanted to drive over there, order the food, sit around & wait for it, then bring it back to the room. I found this odd, too. But, that's what we did.

We haven't seen them in a couple of years, but that's not unusual. T is tall. His hair is now as long as mine, which is fairly long, he was wearing a very tight, dark plum long-sleeve tee & black pleated dress pants that were most likely women's along with a pair of black flipflops. He moves and speaks much more effeminately than he used to. Also, he was wearing some terribly cloying perfume that attached itself to me after I hugged him. The first thing that popped into my head when they came out of the hotel was, "Oh my god, it's Gene Simmons." Not that he looked like Gene Simmons, but if it weren't for the girly garb, he would've looked like a rocker. I think he thought he was passable as one anyway.

We got to the Mexican place which was much nicer than I expected. Scott & I were a bit worried because that side of town is questionable, but no one got mugged or killed. After we ordered the food, the host invited us to sit at the bar while we waited, so we ordered a round of beer & started chit-chatting. The Mexicans kept peering out of doorways to gawk at T.

Apparently they had never seen a 6 ft 3 transexual. T was either ignoring or unaware of their stares. I suppose he must be used to it by now - even in New York he's bound to get some looks, but I know he's rather sensitive about it. It's not a lifestyle he intended.

We'd brought a 12 pack of beer, a case of water (figuring they might want some for the road, too), a roll of paper towels, some limes, and our laptop along with a couple photo CDs, and unloaded all this from the truck to haul up to the room along with the food. Scott was wearing his Arrogant Bastard shirt and looked more than slightly ruffian, T was, well, T, N & I both looked average enough. We entered the lobby & the little Indian man that was working was on us in a flash. "No no! What is going on here? You are not guests - you are visitors! We do not allow visitors! It is against strict policy! I will give you full refund!" All in his little accent, pacing around us in a very sorrowful & worried way. We were taken aback by this & moved automatically into a buffalo stance, backs facing in while the man circled us like an elderly, plaid-shirted wolf.

"That's a very strange policy," I stated before thinking that he probably does have a lot of problems with people on that end of town.

T was baffled, trying to explain that we were old high school friends & they were back in town & we just wanted to visit & view pictures. "We have a laptop! I'm 34 years old!" he declared, as if that explained everything. The man was having none of it & stuck to his guns, repeating the same thing over & over again. T reacts strangely to some situations, usually not in a positive way, especially when he's on the defensive or feels that he is being attacked by ignorant & irrational non-New Yorkers. The three of us could sense him getting edgy & tried to soothe him & the Indian man at the same time as T had started to respond to the accusation in the man's voice by adopting the stance & tone of a bitchy woman & asking him not to speak to him in that way and not to raise his voice. From what I could tell, the old fellow was only growing increasingly agitated with our polite rebellion, but wasn't speaking harshly, he was just concerned for his business. Understandable.

"You can sit down here in the lobby & eat your food & look at your pictures. No guests in the room. Strict policy. Full refund. Very sorry." We all looked at each other, pleaded with the man once again. He jabbed a finger at Scott, standing quietly with his shirt & brew. "Look at him! He is ready to party! He has beer and water!" I almost lost it. I was very amused by the whole thing in the first place because the guy was so genuinely upset by our plans & this comment struck me as extraordinarily funny, especially followed by the look of shock & dismay on Scott's face at being singled out & accused. We really are respectful folks & generally leave hotel rooms in the same condition we found them & we take great pride in not being slovenly, inconsiderate assholes.

"No! We're not here to party! We will be quiet!" We all chimed in at once. At this point, a red-headed woman came out of the back, sized up the situation, and whispered to the Indian fellow who had moved behind the counter, tsking & shaking his head.

He eyeballed T. "You are from Yellow Springs, right?" This threw us all off. I wasn't sure what to make of it, whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, opened my mouth to ask, because I was honestly curious, why YS was suspect & also to offer up that I worked in the town. But, for once I thought before I spoke, and bit my tongue as he didn't seem to think YS was a good thing at all. T isn't familiar with YS & was even more confused - he might've been more offended had he known why the fellow thought he was from the little alternative village. I think the guy thought we were local people who were choosing to trash his hotel room rather than our own pad.

"Yellow Springs?" repeated T, not understanding. "No - I'm from Englewood, New Jersey."

We could see the old fellow was relenting with help from the woman. "How many more of you are coming?" He asked us, resolve obviously weakening.

"It's just us. We'll be quiet, we just want to visit with our friends."

"Okay - because I have a lot of elderly people staying here & they don't want to be awakened by your partying!"

"Old people like us - we're not partying!" I blurted unhelpfully.

The woman gave us an apologetic smile and said, "We have a lot of problems with people doing drugs & trashing up the rooms. But I'm not saying you do those things!" she added anxiously. I think she saved us from lobby purgatory. All I could see was the four of us sitting at these tiny, flimsy plastic tables with our laptops & our beer next to us, undrunk.

The old Indian sighed & peered at us over his glasses, "If there are damages, you will pay?" We all nodded solemnly. He let us go amid a profusion of thanks.

We figured he had stalked by the door several times while we were in the room, but with the exception of a couple loud, excited, not unusual outbursts from Toni, we were well-behaved. Scott & I even hauled all the trash from our little get-together out to the truck & took it home so it wouldn't stink of stale Mexican food & beer. All in all, a very pleasant visit & a funny story.

Thanks very much! Have a safe drive home, gals! Love ya!