I’d like to first preface, Mom, if you are reading this im sorry… I suppose lets start at ground zero, breakfast. Back in the states, cereal was a norm for breakfast, maybe accompanied by some eggs and whatever else I could get my hands on (Im not fat, im just big boned).  As much as I would have liked to slap some oreos on my plate with those eggs, the thought of my mom slapping my head or flashing her “evil eye”, was enough to detour me from that.  Well, here there is no mom, but plenty of oreos.  I woke up yesterday and poured some cereal, topped it with oreos, and was in my glory.  Cassie attempted the “evil eye”, but could use some practice. After I satisfied my perculiar craving, Cassie and I headed to the beach for some of the best coconut shakes I have ever had.  Luckily, the establishment that offers them happens to be the closest to our house, has the best WiFi,  and also sits on my favorite beach.  Conveniently proceding the shakes I hopped in the water to try out some of my new camera equpiment, it was a success. As beautiful a reef this was, I wanted more…I always do.  I dragged Cassie down her favorite dirt road (where she crashed the bike), to Tanote Bay, an undeniably beautiful piece of ocean.  This time there was no crash, probably due to the fact that I was in control of the bike…told you so.  Tanote Bay is a trecherous journey down a rock scaled path, and plumets to an obtuse incline.  Unforuntaely for Cassie and fun for me, It offers they only “wall” within swimming distance of shore.  A “wall” is a divers sanctuary, large rock and coral formations starting at very shallow depths, and suddenly dropping to sometimes hundreds of feet deep.  It offers a large variety of life, such as colorful plants, miniscule fish, and sometimes even home to weary travelers like sharks.

10 Feet

30 Feet

Yearning to join the divers below me ( at about 60 feet), but remembering I am not a fish, I ascend with my mask and snorkel and rejoin Cassie.  At this point she is sunbathing on a rock, moping about her not being able to submerge her stitches.  I make an executive decision, and decide the only way to cure her crankiness is to take a nap, I could use one myself. A one hour nap turned into a four hour nap, and it’s not until the setting sun pierces our retinas we decide it’s time to rise.  For days Cassie has been suggesting we go out on the town, I concur, and its a beautiful night to do so.  We have heard through the grapevine there is a “Lady-Boy” show starting at 10:30 pm.  I,  for the life of me….can’t turn it down.  It’s not with out a few drinks over a card game we build up the courage to set forth on our mission, and we call a cab. We mutually decide its best if we get a bite to eat, and continue with our buzz, so we take a table at a lovely spot called Choppers.   Cassie and I being some of the first people to arrive at the bar, it quickly fills to capacity when the live music starts (a universal language that brings everyone together).  We order a beer tower, which is three liters of Chang, for roughly ten dollars.  It turns out our eyes were bigger than our stomachs and we wind up donating some to the already drunk population, cheers.  After drinking our body weight in Chang, we notice that Island Time got the best of us, and we are late for the show! Laughing our asses off and anticipating what awaits us, we stumble into the black-lit room, and our jaws drop.

My apology for the blur, when Im drunk I don’t seem to have much of a steady hand

Men, lots of them.  Men dressed in high heels, fish net skirts, wigs, and plenty of make up.  Men parading about, giving the crowd what they came to see, and marveling in the spot light.  To my surprise they looked and acted like any regular woman.  Shoulders a tad broad, necks a bit muscular, voices a bit deepened, none the less a better job than I could have pulled off (foreshadowing). It was at this point, in between my drunken giggles and half slurred jokes, something happened.  Something I would have never imagined. The room withdraws of light for a brief moment, and when they turn back on all I can remember is Cassie pointing at me, volunteering me, but for what you ask? With out my consent, but too stunned to realize whats happening, one of the contenders takes me by the arm and into the back room, along with six other volunteers from the crowd, all men.  We all stare blankly at each other, as we are ordered to take off our shirts.  Before I know it I am half naked,  being dressed up in a wig and some other type of chest garment ( Sorry, Mom).  Once more the room withdraws of light.  This time however, when the light returns to the room, the spot light is not on the performers, but on us.  A rough, manly set of hands push me into the middle of the stage, surrounded by the crowd, all laughing and getting more than what they expected.  A feeling of stage fright courses through my body, than I think to myself… “Oh, what the hell”. I danced, jumped, shook my ass for the crowd, my brunette wig flapping in the humid air.  Brief glimpses of the crowd hysterically laughing gave evidence that I was doing a fine job.  All seven of us basked in the spot light, giving the crowd what they came to see.  They cheered and whistled and clapped their hands, enjoying the show and marveling in what must have been the strangest site they’d laid eyes on.  Finally, after a good effort from all of us, the performers took us back stage after bowing and receiving recognition from the crowd.  As we took off our garments and re-clothed, we laughed, shook hands, and joked about who wore it better.  We said our goodbye’s and rejoined the crowd, a little sweatier, a little wiser, but happy to have participated. After the show let out, it was time to sleep it off.  We wait for a cab and head back to the house, not before grabbing the best crepe I’ve ever tasted,  from a street cart. Life is about trying new things, crossing your comfort zone and pushing the threshold.  Sure, sometimes that means dressing up as a woman and dancing around, but so be it.  We made the best of an already splendid night out, and if I could do it all again…I’d rather a blonde wig than a brunette; it compliments my eyes. Goodbye for now, your lady-boy blogger- Mike