Rocky Horror Picture Show Pt 1.

October 2005

Dear queer diary,

Once upon a time shortly after high school, I remember getting ready at a friend's house for a rocky horror show at a nearby theater. What started as 3 people, turned into a hoard of teen girls in wigs and fishnets, followed by a group of guys that were pranking us. The living room, bedroom, and bathroom had been taken over as dressing rooms. Girls were putting on their eyeliner and glitter shadow while sharing a mirror. The girls that were ready were off to the side, talking about nothing, adjusting their corsets or lacing their thigh highs. Every seat in the room was occupied, and at one point, my high school best friend came over to the chair I was on and sat on my lap. I have never been very in tune with platonic affection but this was it. I put my feet up in the foot rest. She had been getting over a cold and wasn't feeling the best about going out so late. I don't know if she did it herself, or if I told her she could lean back if she wanted to. She had her head next to mine and I remember so clearly the way I kept her close. I was holding my friend physically in my lap for the first time. For all that we had experienced together in the past 4 years, I got to keep her and comfort her. It was in that moment I knew I wanted to take care of her. This wasn’t sexual or romantic, but it awakened a deep-seated feeling of love I had never experienced before.

No one was asked for permission to post this. Luckily we're all in disguises. 

Fears

Rated R

December 1997

Dear queer diary,

Did you ever see Starship Troopers? My dad took me and my older brother. It was the first R rated movie I saw in theaters and I was 11. I remember being so psyched, or thinking they'd kick me out. Denise Richard’s boobs were cool.

I am a 14 year old boy.

I've been adapting pretty well to my queer dating life.

In the Backseat

Summer 2013

Dear queer diary,

I was dating an alcoholic man that invited me to his friend's incredibly loud summer party. We had planned to arrive earlier in the evening before it got crowded. but got there after dark. People had been waiting for us. I wasn't ready for a large gathering, and I had only met this social group 1 time prior, in a quiet setting. We pulled up, parked, and he was off toward the yard of people. I said I had to get something from the car. He started to realize I was taking my time, and when he came back I told him I wasn't feeling well. I wanted to rest up in the car. He asked if I remembered his friend *R* and that she was waiting to see me. I resigned to taking a nap in the car, and advised for him to get me in an hour. Sleep wasn't happening and I could hear people talking, talking about me. Maybe 45 minutes had gone by, and I heard my name being drunkenly heralded.

“Heeeey” as the car door opened. “Are you ok?”

It was her, the friend. She slowly crept over me, with the care one takes when intoxicated, laying on top of me across the back seat, with her legs hanging out the car door. I told her I was tired.

She kissed me on the forehead, “I hope you feel better. You should come out soon. We miss you.”

I never went to the party. I drove off after the boyfriend visited with a drunk harshness that was nothing like the girl’s cute and caring inebriation.

I don't remember her real name, only her stage name.

She's a dancer and I have had the chance to see her many times since then. I haven't. Because, I don't know how I'd approach her and say, “Do you remember climbing on me in the back of a car? Can we do it again sometime?”