Middle-age butch is changing the world

Last week, a friend threw a fancy luncheon to celebrate my book.

On my way to her house, I stopped by a local shop to purchase a small hostess gift.

I told the shop owner I was going to a luncheon and asked for gift suggestions.

When I went to pay for the gift, she asked about the lunch.

Normally, I don’t divulge a lot of information about myself when I am out in public.  What you see is what you get.  Middle-age woman.  Or boy.  Heck, you know the drill.  But I was in a generous and giving mood because friends! free lunch! afternoon cocktails!

“A friend is having a special lunch in my honor because I wrote a book,” I said.

The shop owner congratulated me and we started talking about writing.

When she asked questions about the book, I handed her a promotional business card.

“I was just talking to my daughter about this the other night,” she said.

Apparently, they had gone on a mother-daughter shopping excursion for a bathing suit.  The  teenage daughter wanted board shorts like her dad wears.

“I didn’t even know what board shorts were,” she said.

“I wear board shorts,” I told her.

So, we talked about board shorts and the fluidity of gender and girls who want to wear what their dads do.

I couldn’t wait for W to get home so I could tell her about my day.  About the special lunch of grilled chicken and shrimp, organic beer and a duo of desserts.

And about my conversation with the shop owner.

“Most writers say that if they are able to touch one person’s life, they are a success,” W reminded me.

“I know,” I said.  “My book isn’t even out, and I’m already changing the world.”

So, yeah, a little dramatic.  But the day’s events left me feeling large and in charge and, well, yes, very, very butch.