I apologize in advance for these uncensored images.
Sometime after posting the aforementioned blog, my friend Beth told me that she had seen Ladyface at our neighborhood store, The Handy Dandy. I asked Beth if she got the impression that Ladyface was a man or a woman, and she felt confident that it was a man in women's clothing. Clothing, dangling earrings, and platform sandals, to be exact. Imagining Ladyface in the Handy Dandy all dolled up is enigmatic. This is the kind of store where they butcher and sell their own meat, and where cops hang out. Their top selling beer comes in 40 oz bottles, and most of their customers arrive on foot. The thought of an unabashed transvestite entering the establishment seems ballsey, if not slightly dangerous.
The following day Lee and I were driving to the comic book store so he could get "dis guy tuh buy me one uh dim five dollar foot longs", and on the way we drove past Ladyface's house where the fountain was spewing.
"Do you the man who lives in that house with the fountain?" I asked Lee.
"Hell yeah" Lee said in a low, "no duh" tone. "People says he's some kinda queer er sumthin. I don't give uh damn but whut th hell is he doin with that goddam warshin machine pump on thar? Can you imagine thu warter he's a waistin' jus to run that crap in his front fuckin yard"
Lee's tone and volume increased to a mid-high agitation level, and he elaborated:
"I mean, here's dis grown man spendin all his time'n money on some ugly warter pump with bricks an bullshit all over it; livin in thare with his BIG old momma! That says to me that shit ain't right with em. Them peoples CRAZY"
I was proud that Lee didn't rail the man for dressing like a woman or for his proposed homosexuality. Ladyface had logged at least 25 hours a week on that stupid fountain, and since he continually changed it, it was 25 hours a week from April to September for three consecutive summers. But the bottom like was that Lee was calling another CRAZY.
A few days later Jason and I were driving by and saw Ladyface relaxing around his house. We took these pictures.
I couldn't help but notice the pick in his pocket. I used to carry a pick like that when I got an 80s perm.
My neighborhood is the best. When a man feels this confident and natural while cross dressing, everyone else should just follow suit. No pun intended.
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