In case you missed the billboards at your local bus stop, the Frameline GLBT Film Festival is going on right now. It’s the biggest queer film festival in the country (and held in SF? shocker!) and shows a wonderful variety of films from around the world, ranging from the political to the downright wacky.
Speaking of wacky, last night, I headed to the Roxie last night after work to catch the Scary, Mary! collection of film shorts. The first film was definitely the best: Taco Chick and Salsa Girl featured two Latina superdragheroines fighting crime (in the form of Nazi Barbie and White Supremicist Ken) with the aid of their fellow superhero, Fruity Punch. Director Kurt Koehler is to be commended for his irreverent characters and perfect pacing (perhaps too perfect, as I sometimes couldn’t hear the fast-moving dialog due to the raucous laughter in the theater).
Meanwhile, I’ve returned from vacationing in DC and NYC, and wanted to give a shoutout to Metbloggers there and abroad… especially Art in NYC, who keeps us abreast of the folks on the subway. I had at least one of my own subway encounter, which was so ridiculous it made me wonder if someone was filming a movie or something. Maybe I’ll see it up on the screen at next year’s Frameline.
So here’s the subway story (I know, it’s not an SF story… pretend you’re reading NYC Metroblogging for a moment): a friend and I were riding the 4 uptown, and as we were approaching a stop, this woman behind me getting ready to disembark starts reading the button on my man-purse. “Sexy gay… what’s that say?” I had an extra shirt draped through the strap, so I moved it so she could finish. “…nerd. Sexy gay nerd? Is that true?”
“I tend to think so,” I said. I mean, sexiness is 75% attitude and chutzpah, right?
“Are you gay?” she asked next.
No, lady, I just wear the button to get chicks. “Yes.”
“Well…. that’s your choice,” she continued, sounding kind of wistful or disappointed.
“Actually, no, it really wasn’t,” I reply.
“Okay. Well… that’s your choice,” she said again, in practically the same tone of voice. I wondered if she were some sort of Straightbot patrolling the New York subway system. I can’t remember what I said to her then, something like “Hmm, no,” and she repeated herself a third time as the doors opened and she got off the train.
The friend I was with thought maybe she was hoping she could use her feminine wiles on me to make me straight, kind of like how some women dating less-than-trustworthy men end up thinking, “Oh, I can change him!” Mmhmm.