Sometimes you have those sudden moments of total clarity, and they often find you in circumstances that could best be described as “timeless.” I found mine on my knees in a dingy and dark club in the Tenderloin at about 1 in the morning Saturday night — I was, in fact, in a spotlight, on bended knee, sliding a size 15 Lucite stripper heel onto a slightly belligerent, bewigged tranny emcee, who, microphone in hand, was sitting on my date’s lap and admonishing the crowd for not tipping enough. While also publicly admonishing my date for being a tall drink of boyish cuteness and being decidedly straight. I was the drunken Cinderella’s footman, and it was well past midnight in a neighborhood far from mine. It was one of those Barbary Coast nights. Again. (more. . .)

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