She seemed a bit taken aback by the question, but not as much as the woman she was talking to who actually got mad. Christie said she loved women, didn't have time for men and didn't seem to own the word "butch." She showed me her bra as if to say, "I'm not butch" but then thought about it and decided she was. All in the span of about two minutes.
Later Christie joined me and my friends at our table to talk about butch. It seemed to me she had a kind of epiphany, and although stumbling on what the definition of butch meant (she chops wood but so do femmes), felt that it was the right term for her.
Christie's ink |
Christie and your mistress of butch sightings |
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