“Ready, on
your mark, GO!” a man shouts at the starting point. James, along with over one hundred
other drag queens wearing high heels, runs as fast as they can. More than 1000 people
are gathered to witness the race. Some drag queens fall down, but many of them run
through the finish line. Some just walk the course with the sole purpose of
entertaining the crowd. James and his friends run, but they are not the
fastest. The crowd runs/walks after the last drag queen finishes and it’s a big
celebration at the finish line. James is surrounded by his fans in a narrow
street surrounded by row houses and brick sidewalks. People in the crowd continue
to walk up to him to take pictures. He is a celebrity today. He is happy. He
does not remember the events of the past two days and his hospital visit.
Out of the
corner of his right eye he sees a guy standing on a sidewalk with a subtle
smile. The smile is familiar. James recognizes the smile as his own: upper lip
curled up on the right side, similar to a Sylvester Stallone smile. He fights
through the crowd and instinctively walks up to the guy.
“Hi! I’m
James. Did you know you have the exact same smile as me?” says James.
“Hi James! I
realize that now. I’m Bond. Nice costume!” says the guy. He is taken aback by the
sudden conversation with one of the drag queens, but he responds calmly, but
his smile vanishes.
“Forgive me
for intruding, but are you suffering from Bell’s Palsy by any chance?” James
asks. Four excited girls walk up to him for a picture. James unwillingly
obliges. His attention is captured by Bond and his smile.
Bond waits for
James and then replies “Yes, I am. Are you also?”
“Yes,” says
James. His Queen Elizabeth outfit continues to draw attention and many people still
want to take pictures with him, so he says, “Bond! Let’s walk to a quiet
place.”
Bond is not
sure, but the connection of illness draws him to obey James. He nods and they
start walking out of the crowd, onto the sidewalks of Q Street, and away from
DuPont Circle. James is still drawing attention but no one is walking up to
him. Passersby are sneaking a look at him. Some are even talking behind the
back. James is not bothered by it. He has seen this for many years. However,
Bond is feeling uncomfortable. James is yet not talking to him after the
initial conversation. They walk a little and sit down at a small café.
“You are
very quiet. You did not ask a single question,” says James.
“I do not
know how to react,” says Bond. “I have never met anyone with Bell’s Palsy and
certainly never started a conversation with it.” Bond wants to say something
about the outrageous outfit, but he holds himself back. He looks around the
small rectangular room and counts 5 tables and 13 chairs.
“I had to go
to the emergency room yesterday and almost missed the race. It’s fresh in my
mind, and probably what drew me to you,” says James drawing Bond’s attention to
himself.
“Probably.
Anyways, why do you run in this bizarre race? What is the purpose?” asks Bond finally
losing self control.
“Why do you
come to watch it?” asks James.
“I heard
about it from a colleague and found it intriguing, so I decided to check out. I
had no idea of its….,” Bond pauses to find the right word.
Both men
stare at each other for a second and then James says, “Outrageous. That’s fair.
This race gives me a sense of belonging to a community. Weirdness is appreciated
here,” says James. A Girl in her early twenties walks up to them and asks what
they want.
“A latte for
me,” says James and looks at Bond.
“No coffee
for me. I won’t be able sleep. Just water, please,” orders Bond. “What
community?” Bond asks drawing James’ attention back. “If I didn’t know any
better, I’d say this was just a bunch of lunatics getting together to make fun
of themselves.”
“Based on that
statement, you definitely don’t know any better,” says James spontaneously.
“What do you
mean?” asks Bond leaning over the table.
“I assure
you, no one there is a lunatic. And by community, I mean LGBT,” says James.
“Like
homosexual? Are you…..” Bond hesitates to ask.
“Yes, I am
Gay,” says James. Bond shifts his posture away from the table, obviously uncomfortable.
Looking at Bond’s reaction James says, “Are you surprised or offended?”
“Ah, I don’t
know. I never met anyone like you,” says Bond.
“In that
case, you’re the best person I’ve met,” says James smiling
“How’s
that?” Bond asks.
“You didn’t
get up and runaway. Generally, when someone like you meets someone like me for
the first time, the reaction is wilder.” says James. Bond didn’t say anything;
he was not relaxed or comfortable. He decided to continue and not be rude.
“You know, I
almost miss the race today,” says James trying to ease the tension.
“Why is
that?” Bond asks.
“Bell’s
Palsy. I started feeling numb a couple of days back, here on my face,” James
touched a point on his face just above left eyebrow. “Yesterday, it was worse.
Numbness spread all over the left side of my face. I had to go to the emergency
room. I spent the whole night there. In my sleep deprived state, I almost slept
through today.” James hoped to cash in on similarity by describing his
experience.
Bond eyes
light up. He says, “That’s my story as well. I also had to go to the emergency
room for the exact same reason yesterday. I slept through the afternoon and was
feeling a little low. I was looking for ‘Things to do in DC’ talking to a
friend and found this event. What a coincidence!”
“Right. See
we are not that different.” James says. It’s amazing what a common connection
can do. Bond is more relaxed now, but he does not respond to that comment. He
has no idea how to behave around homosexual people. “Don’t worry James. I like guys
that do not mean I will make sexual advances on you. I can be a normal friend,”
says James reading Bond’s mind.
“No, I
wasn’t thinking that,” Bond lies looking at his feet. Now Bond changes the
conversation back to their illness. “James, I had to wait for hours in that emergency
room yesterday before I could actually get treated. They did not consider
mental anguish a serious enough issue.”
“I know. I
also had to wait three hours. I went to a nurse and told her that I was
uncomfortable. She asked me politely to explain. I could not. All I could say
was that I felt numb and uncomfortable. She did not consider it serious
enough,” says James.
James’ coffee
arrives at the table, but Bond is oblivious to the fact. “Exactly. I hear you.
They do not know what’s going through our heads. They just think that blood and
audible screaming is the only way that pain can be recognized. It’s like we are
discriminated against,” says Bond.
“I know that
word and I have felt it for many years,” says James stirring his coffee.
“What word?”
asks Bond.
“Discrimination,”
says James. “It is the same mental anguish I feel when people ask me to
describe or explain why I am gay.”
“Dude, you
can choose. How can you not like girls?” asks Bond.
James stares
at Bond. “I can’t explain. I believe you out of all should understand. It’s the
same as Palsy. Only you know what you’re feeling. I like guys and I am
homosexual. I don’t know why. I can’t describe what I feel. “ James lets go of
spoon and leans back in his chair.
“So you’re
saying it’s a disease,” says Bond.
James laughs.
“Do you think so?” he asks in sarcastic manner.
“I don’t
know. I’ve never been Gay,” says James.
“Exactly, my
friend. Can other people understand what you are going through when you have
one of these numbness attacks? Being homosexual is not a disease. It’s as if you
like vanilla ice cream and I like chocolate ice cream,” says James.
“Aren’t you
downplaying? Sexual orientation is more serious than choosing an ice cream
flavor,” says Bond.
“I’m not
downplaying, Bond. I’m just saying it is hard to explain. If you forget that
I’m gay. We are not much different. We both suffer from the same illness and we
both had to go through the same challenges in past 24 hours. Let’s say I am
just answering your question of why I run in this race,” says James.
“Why is
that?” asks Bond.
“Didn’t you
feel good to find someone who went through the same experiences in the past 24
hours?” asks James.
“Yes,” Bond
nodes.
“This race
is a medium for me to find someone who’s been going through the same
discrimination for years,” says James. James quietly
drinks his coffee and Bond sips through water. None of them talk till they are
finished. James pays for his coffee and they leave.
“It was nice
talking to you,” says Bond extending his hands.
James does
not shake hands. “Bond, come back next year. Let’s meet here at this café. I
want hear your thought after a year. I will save this handshake till then.”
James smiles, turns around and walks back. Bond stands there for few minutes
making a mental note of coming back next year and walks towards the metro
station.
Copy editor: Marisa Strothenke
