Since I’ve been slowed down by this cold, Marla and Erica beat me to posting about our girl’s night out, so I’m not sure I can come up with something more interesting. No pressure… no pressure…

Anyway, Erica was unexpectedly back in town and since Patsy wasn’t able to come last time, I suggested she join us and things snowballed from there. Kew also wanted to come and then Marla amazed me by driving all the way in from Sacramento. (Sadly, her husband Angel couldn’t get off of work early enough to come.)

I was still struggling with the cold and still a bit hoarse, so in retrospect, it would’ve been smarter to have stayed home, but since Erica is such lovely company, I didn’t want to miss another opportunity to spend an evening with her.

Kew came over to my house and declared I did get the gay-male-decorator gene. What I can say… I’m a designer… Guess maybe I need to put up a neon beer sign to butch up a bit…

Kew, Patsy and I carpooled up to SF and met up with Marla and Erica outside Macy’s where they’d been doing a little window shopping. Since we hadn’t made reservations anywhere, there the inevitable “Well were would you like to eat” ensued. I’m not a huge fan of the Cheesecake Factory (especially when there are lots of far more interesting restaurants nearby), but Patsy does so love it, so I suggested we go there.

My mistake. Who would’ve thought there would be an hour’s wait on a week night. It is on Union Square and all…but obviously there must be a lot of unadventurous tourists that night.

I’ve been out enough that waiting around the bar didn’t faze me, but I was really proud of how calm Erica was, since she hasn’t been out that much. As Erica said, we really didn’t attract that much attention: three women, one tall CD and one really tall CD (Erica’s 6’2”). And true to stereotype all the females were in pants and the CDs were in skirts.

When finally got to dinner and had a lovely time, talking about all sorts of things, including transgender subjects. I know some folks might be uncomfortable doing so because they’re worried people might overhear, but personally it doesn’t bother me. First off, I seriously doubt that I’ll be mistaken for female in close-up intereaction and secondly, the only way our image is going to change is by people encountering us and seeing we’re pretty much like anyone else.

One the way home we nearly missed having a much larger adventure. As I dropped Patsy off I noticed the fuel gauge was on empty, but since the “low fuel” light hadn’t come on I figured I had a gallon or two left and could get gas in the morning. Well, the next morning, guess what… the car wouldn’t start and I had to walk down to the gas station and bring back a gas can. Apparently the “low fuel” light no longer works, since when I filled the car, the tank was quite literally empty. And this is one time I didn’t get around to putting my “boy bag” (with a change of clothes and make-up remover) in the trunk. So it could’ve been a far more…uh…exciting…evening.