why i love san francisco

and queer youth.

i was waiting for the BART train after class tonight, Halloween night. there were some cows, some ninjas, the usual suspects. along came four queer youth of color somewhere between 16-19 i'd say. three boys and a girl. two of the boys were dressed in drag, one sorta hoochie style, and the other a bit more refined. the latter had obviously played this part before. he looked beautiful, as only a woman, or a boy in drag can. the third boy was wearing frilly pink panties, sneakers and a boxing robe, open of course, to show off the pink panties. thin boy, big eyes. the girl was their safari guide, in tight khaki short shorts, khaki top, safari hat, brown knee-high socks and tan shoes.

the four were vamping it up and realized it was time for pictures. so the girl looks around at the crowd for potential picture takers and decides, for some reason, to ask this old white man sitting next to his wife, quietly reading his mystery novel. glasses, trenchcoat, old man cap. he agrees, and the four kids take up posing. but first the digital camera must be explained to the man. posing. then they pass him another camera. more posing. safari girl looking down boy in hoochie drag's top, hands up, looking shocked at what she sees. the other two boys on either side posing marilyn monroe-vegas showgirl-demure-batting eyelash-stripper style. then they pass the man a third camera, a disposable. by the end of this photoshoot, the man is a photographer. when they're done, the kids thank the man sincerely, and the man sits back down and takes up where he left off in his mystery. doesn't even give his wife a knowing look or roll of the eye.

during this whole scene, the rest of the crowd occasionally looks over, some a bit more interested than others. i stand there and stare, grinning from ear to ear.


unrelated to the above, my favorite flickr costume