Last week I saw a guy in Starbucks in LA, a normal trucker looking guy with a beard, gray shirt and jeans on. What’s so odd about that you ask? Well, on top of what I already described this guy also had on a long brown wig and he had boobs. Is he butch or just the laziest transvestite in the history of men dressing fabulous? Other than the boobs and wig he was as normal and guy acting as a guy can be. It was like The Cable guy meets Rupaul. At one point he asked someone to watch his laptop while he went to the restroom, but without a hint of acknowledging his freakish appearance. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he had boobs. He even had a deep man voice he wasn’t trying to hide. There was nothing feminine about him other than, well…the boobage and wig. I felt like telling him he had boobs the same way you tell a friend they’ve got mustard on their cheek.
ME: Dude you got a little boob stuff going on right there….No, it’s still there…to the left…here just let me get it…
The best part of living in LA and being from New York…not only did people not care they didn’t even acknowledge him. Trucker guy with boobs? Outstanding. Now back to my Rooibos tea.
Now contrast this guy with the things that make you self conscious. Not even close.