Watching a film earlier on today, a man doing exactly the same thing got my attention. Ok, it’s all screenplay and the under the control of the director but the man had a professional aura about him. He sat like a lion waiting for his bait, reading a newspaper with a cigarette in his hand. He was causal, cool, and he didn’t have a point to prove. Everyone I know seems to have a point to prove, me included at times. Some even live by it.
The film was about a kid who was probably going to learn how to play chess or was a genius with parent trying ‘lead’ him to be a chess master. Anyway, I was zapping and it was the man who got my attention, and only because I envy people like him. I envy the master of everything, they have made it, they are the one and only, they are the master of it. Pretty cool, huh?
Last night on another night out in the abstract and outstanding Cahide, I think I figured that I had mastered my loneliness and I actually missed it. In the second I thought the thought I wanted to be there alone. The place was reeling with people having fun, they were singing, dancing, play fighting the lot and I didn’t want to join in, I wanted to watch and absorb the atmosphere. The crowd I was with asked too many questions and I was listening to stories I had listened to many times before. Hushing my inner confusion and frustration, I part joined in and part didn’t. I drank it down.
What I saw last night was a common night with it’s extraordinary vibe, this place is marginal compared to any other places in Istanbul. ‘Cahide’ is full off transvestites and they go from table to table talking to people and entertaining them, cracking jokes, dancing with them and taking piss out of the uptight men who have issues with gays. They are allowed to be themselves. We the heterosexuals are in their manor and we have to respect them. Asking about to see if the founder was gay or not it become evident that it didn’t matter whether he was or not, the man had a gay-friendly club in Istanbul. He was brave enough to be marginal.
Walking in they took us to a table on the stage, as there are no performances on Saturday nights we got a nice birds-eye view of the whole venue. The concept is fantastic, the venue is actually a tent -a humongous tent in the middle of a park in one of the well own areas of Istanbul. Considering the age-range and crowds in there the most are there to take a trip down memory lane. Turkish music from the 90’s is played the most, with a little bit of common world pop music and Turkish contemporary pop the dose of music is fantastic.
Anyway these man-ladies are fantastic, and they loved me last night. That makes me proud by the way; from my experience transsexuals are very picky with females they socialise with. She can’t be too pretty or too ugly, she can’t be too loud or too quiet, to an extent they still want to exert a bit of their machoism I think. I emphasise on the ‘I think’.
The ones loitering around the stage (stage pictured above) and just around all came over one by one. The one I’m friends with, Miss-cushion-tits came over to greet me. Her cushions are massive and I always give them a little squeeze. I asked her to lend them to me for the night, as I wanted shake them at my man-friend, he/she laughed and refused. She explained that they were also her tip sack, and unless I was going to use them to make tips of the customers I couldn’t have them. They were her lucky tit cushions. So he/she shook them at my man-friend instead, and told me to get a tit-job. As we offered him/her a drink he/she refused adding he/she was pregnant.
The next man-lady was more formal with me and told I was pretty, pecked a kiss on cheek and told me I was a polite little lady. Told the man-friend to be nice and kissed him on his bald head.
Man-lady number three loved making my man-friend uncomfortable; my man-friend is border-line gay friendly. He accepts them yet likes the distance because like all men seem to think about themselves, he too believes himself to be a very attractive (!!) man and doesn’t like blurring the lines with gay men.
So man-lady number three rested her tall self on to boyfriend and asked me whether I was the girl friend, and if I was I should be ‘more seductive’ with him and not be an empty wood plank next to him. I pissing myself asked her what I should do, she gave me an apple and told me to feed him mouth-to-mouth or else he/she would (!!). God my man-friend felt stuck, I refused saying I couldn’t do it as I watched my man-friends eye-pop out of their place. Man-lady three and I enjoyed his face expression. I did feed him the apple in the mouth-to-mouth lover type way, and promised the man-lady I would do more when we got home. We had clicked instantly with new man-lady friend, she kissed me and hugged my man-friend and went about her job.
I love those man-ladies as I believe they are brave, I am true supporter of all gay-isms and lifestyles but if I were gay or so marginal even I would not know whether I would/could do what they do.
In connection to all to our chess master, these brave gay men/women have mastered norms, they have mastered pointless and prejudice tendencies of people and decided to be who they are. So my cool chess master is equivalent to any gay man and woman out there.
If ever you come to Istanbul, and want a fabulous night go to ‘Cahide’, not only will you love it you will be amazed by it. It is the ultimate gay tent.
Oh and the décor is fantastic… truly mind blowing.