The first thing that hits me when I walk into down to the basement of the bar is the smell—sweet cannabis smoke twisted with cheap vanilla candles, some trans guy’s random cologne, and the lingering tang of spilled beer that's been hastily wiped up but never truly leaves.
I am a cis mom with a trans daughter living in DC, where she's safe - for now. Home was a more or less red state with a Dem governor and Dem senators, but incredibly stupid and rabid state officials.
She has her friends and community, a few safe places to go. But I worry.
I want her, her friends and all the queer community to have the "normal" spaces that people like me take for granted. I love that you have a place and friends where you don't have to wear armor to get through the day. But I want you to have the rest of the fucking world.
I'm so glad for you to have this space and family to help you go on for the rest of us, may we be queer or just devoted allies of your community (including me). In wishing you all the strength you need!
Beautiful. Reminds me of the first lesbian bar I used to frequent in the late 1980s. It was called Billie Jean's. I was there the last night they were open, in March 1988, bawling my eyes out with the rest of the gals 😂 There have been several lesbian bars in Kansas City since then, although they're all gone now because women don't have the money to spend to keep one open. Hell, I can't drink anymore myself because of the meds I'm on. But I've never felt the same about any of those as I felt about Billie Jean's.
Hugs to you, Wendy. I can't imagine what it's like to be in your shoes right now.
Thank you! Beautiful, evocative and real. Soldier on my girl and love you safe space. Some of us out here gotcha, full of love and hope for you all. ❤️
I'm getting to the point of just ignoring the news. So many people are suffering, and I feel powerless to help.
Your writing brought tears to my eyes.
Thank you for this. We need more of it in the world.
Here. Allow me.
I’m new to your writing but this pulled me in and made me feel as if I was sitting next to on that couch. Well done. You definitely have a talent.
Your descriptive accuracy is beautiful, I felt as if I was there.
On that couch...that threadbare altar of collective heartbreak where countless tears have baptized its cushions.
It's messy. It's loud. It's so fucking beautiful it makes my throat tight.
I get it...
You are not alone, very nicely crafted I enjoy your prose, Write on Dear one,Di
Beautiful, I wish I could join you there. ❤️
I am a cis mom with a trans daughter living in DC, where she's safe - for now. Home was a more or less red state with a Dem governor and Dem senators, but incredibly stupid and rabid state officials.
She has her friends and community, a few safe places to go. But I worry.
I want her, her friends and all the queer community to have the "normal" spaces that people like me take for granted. I love that you have a place and friends where you don't have to wear armor to get through the day. But I want you to have the rest of the fucking world.
I'm so glad for you to have this space and family to help you go on for the rest of us, may we be queer or just devoted allies of your community (including me). In wishing you all the strength you need!
Beautiful. Reminds me of the first lesbian bar I used to frequent in the late 1980s. It was called Billie Jean's. I was there the last night they were open, in March 1988, bawling my eyes out with the rest of the gals 😂 There have been several lesbian bars in Kansas City since then, although they're all gone now because women don't have the money to spend to keep one open. Hell, I can't drink anymore myself because of the meds I'm on. But I've never felt the same about any of those as I felt about Billie Jean's.
Hugs to you, Wendy. I can't imagine what it's like to be in your shoes right now.
Wendy, your writing reminds me of Jack Kerouac. Real, raw and direct.
I don’t know that I’ve ever been compared to Jack Kerouac, but I find that amazing
Thank you! Beautiful, evocative and real. Soldier on my girl and love you safe space. Some of us out here gotcha, full of love and hope for you all. ❤️
You need to write a book! (unless you have and I’m sorry if I’m unaware!!).
bar floors should be gritty, grimy, and slightly sticky.
bar restrooms should be a trough with crushed ice or those white urinal mints. And the BEST filthy graffiti and poetry
Bar itself should be zinc, maple, or copper, and have cracked vinyl seats circa 1947.
Jukebox should have mostly oldskool circa 1951-1965 records.
💕💕💕💕💕