Blogs.SFWeekly.com
I must admit, my first question upon being asked to cover the All-Star Game was not related to getting paid for the piece, or about what kind of a spin they wanted me to put on things, but rather, What in the hell is the All-Star Game? Seriously, I was that clueless.
Let me start this whole thing off by stating the obvious — SF Weekly has a perverse sense of humor. I mean, asking me, San Francisco?s drag mega-star, to go cover the All-Star game? Wasn?t there a MAC cosmetics conference or something going on that I could write about instead?
Once I accepted the job, fear gripped me as the days counted down to the Big Game. Sure, some of my more hysterical friends told me I was crazy, that I was venturing into enemy territory, that I wouldn?t get out alive — but that?s not what I was apprehensive about. I?ve always found that, contrary to popular belief, your average heterosexual isn?t nearly as homophobic as we make them out to be. No, I wasn?t afraid so much about being the only tranny in a crowd of tens of thousands of beer swilling, testosterone fueled sports fans (actually, the thought kind of turned me on) but I worried… would any of them have anything interesting to say?