Posts Tagged ‘the gaybourhood’

Career Day

Monday, March 16th, 2009

 

Regular readers here will know that I live in a rather colourful area of Toronto, one that I like to call ‘Transvestite Prostitute Central.’  I am now used to the high volume of street walkers that grace my street with their thigh high boots, fishnet tights and five o’clock shadows. 

 

During the winter months, they disappear. Rightfully so, because those temperatures will make their balls literally freeze right off (which, I would have thought is what a lot of them wanted, but hey). But, this past weekend, as I made my way home from movie night at my friend’s house, I saw Tina Turner and Jennifer Aniston (I name them based on their wig selection), trying to turn a trade on the corners. More power to them. The weather took a slightly nicer turn over the weekend, so I can’t blame them for getting back in the saddle (ugh, bad choice of words) when they get a chance. 

 

But all this got me to thinking: during the uber cold winter months, what are they doing? House calls? Massage parlours? Drag acts? Phone sex? Enquiring minds want to know. Some of these ladies are a little worse for wear. All right, all of them are, so they can’t keep this $20 hand job business up forever. I decided to compile a list of things they can do to better occupy their time (I plan to present these to them in Oprah-esque fashion at some point in the coming months): 

 

Work at Starbucks

Seriously, when I went in there Sunday morning to treat myself to a bacon breakfast sandwich, the guy who served me seemed to be the happiest person alive. And he works at Starbucks. He was so happy, he made me seriously question my own life choices. Now, if I were a transvestite prostitute looking to get out of the game, shouting ‘Grande Mild’ all day might just be the way forward. At some point I will go back to that Starbucks and ask that guy if he was so happy because he loves his job, or if he had, in fact, been hitting the pipe moments earlier. 

 

Working in a beauty shop

The ‘ladies’ on my street clearly like to (try) to make themselves pretty (unsuccessfully). Doing mani/pedis and waxing eyebrows on other people, may just help them get a better grasp on the look they are trying to achieve. 

 

Mach 3 demonstration person

Again, on account of the amount of 5 o’clock shadows I see, demonstrating how to use a powerful man’s razor might underline the importance of shaving your face when trying to look like a woman. 

 

Become a ‘Real World’ cast member

Right now, they have a post-op transsexual on there. If they threw a transvestite prostitute in the mix, it would clearly be more exciting. 

 

Become a TTC worker

According to the stats, Toronto’s transit employees get attacked pretty regularly (most of the time they probably deserved it, because being a complete asshole is a job requirement). If they had transvestite prostitutes running shit, attacks would go down. Why? Because no one argues with someone wearing eye shadow, blush and a beard. That’s why. It’s all just too intriguing to get angry about.

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Just Another Day in the Neighbourhood

Monday, June 9th, 2008


Firstly, apologies for my shiteous blog schedule of late. Last week I had some pretty serious crap happen. I’m not gonna go into it, suffice to say, it was dramatic on a Jerry Springer outrageous kind of level and if I were to tell you about it, you’d think I was making it up. I’m OK, in fact, I’m great, all things considered and I’m looking forward to reaching the point where last week’s chapter of my life is a distant memory that I’ll be able to look back and maybe even laugh about at some point.

 

Breathe. Shake it out.

 

Let’s move on.

 

I live in the gay village. The upside of this is there’s a nine out of ten chance that I’ll be called ‘fabulous’ at least once a day. Those are some good odds. The downside is that after 10pm, my street becomes Transvestite Prostitute Central. I’m not judging anyone for their life choices. I’m just saying, it’s a little embarrassing when you invite people over and they’re offered a $20 blow job on their way.

 

Some of these transvestites are good, some not so good. I mean, if you’re gonna go through the trouble of donning fishnets and a wig, at least get rid of the five o’clock shadow. There’s a few I’d like to give a make over, because I find their interpretation of womanhood quite disturbing. But I don’t think that episode of ‘What Not to Wear’ would make it to air.

 

Living in Transvestite Prostitute Central makes for some interesting moments. Take last sunday morning for example. I woke up bright and early and drew back my curtains to see a large, muscular black man, wearing a bra and cut off jeans. He’d (heretofore referred to as ‘she’ because girlfriend was really trying) thrown her heels to one side. I smiled in recognition, thinking ‘we’ve all been there honey.’ She had a mirror in one hand, a comb in the other and was brushing out her weave like her life depended on it.

 

Ordinarily, my street gets all red light between the hours of 10pm and say, 5.30am. Before and after those hours, the hood looks somewhat normal. But this was 8am. Business is well and truly over. And it looked like it had been a long, hard night for this diva. I wanted to go downstairs, give her a cup of tea, ask her to put a shirt on and let her know that no amount of brushing would change the fact that the weave was a hot mess.

 

For a good half hour, she stumbled around outside my house, barefoot, throwing her head around, brushing from every conceivable angle. And then, some dude came out of nowhere, struck a deal with her and they went down an alley. Maybe the blow jobs go down in price after hours?

 

Either way, I doubt I would wake up like that in any other part of town.

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