Who Are You Again?

Last night, Lucky Charming completed the third and final installment of his San Francisco Bay tour at Bootie at DNA Lounge. The crowd was delightful, and the other performers (Mynx d'Meanor and Chicago's Dolls of Doom) were absolutely splendid. Unfortunately, this conversation is the memory that jumps out at me the most.

Guy: "Hey! I really enjoyed your act!"
Me: "Oh, thank you!"
Guy: "And I'm not gay!"
Me: "... Even more thank you."
Guy: "Do a lot of girls come up to you after the show and say 'I wanna have sex with you'?"
Me: "Um, no, not really..."
Guy: "I have a tip for you."
Me: "Oh?"
Guy: "Go to the gym."
Me: *Walks away*

Ladies and Gentlemen...This is why I do what I do. Because douchebags like this honestly believe that there is no sexual appeal in men without a six-pack. Luckily, the lovely Mynx reminded me that I was the one getting paid to take my clothes off on stage and he wasn't, and the Dolls expressed strong disappointment that I didn't slap him in the face or kick him in the nuts. Not directly schooled, unfortunately, but it boosted my spirits nonetheless. But this sort of attitude doesn't discourage me at this point. It empowers me. I walked away from that pathetic excuse for a conversation feeling more like a bad-ass than I did five minutes before.

I will put forth the effort to alter the shape of my body when I feel it is appropriate, but the last thing I'm going to do is let some drunk dumbass straight boy who would never fuck me anyway tell me that my physique isn't adequate.