May 30, 1999.

Last night I lived the challenging and rewarding life of the sidekick. For approximately 5 hours I was Q-Girl, the obligatory female superhero with little influence in the decisions but a responsibility to support and aid Q.

This began during a conversation with a total stranger in which I thought vaguely 'hmm. I'm taking the subordinate role.' Usually I associate this with playing the girlfriend, but obviously that didn't apply...so I must therefore be a sidekick. The notion further evolved as we walked through the financial sector, talked about the buildings and drank malt liquor from a brown paper bag. Despite being a Yank, Q was far more familiar with the buildings in the area than I...giving rise to the notion of a native sidekick. But the idea didn't really come into its own until we got to the birthday party.

The party was being held in honour of someone I would characterize as an acquaintance...he's certainly never remembered me any of the half dozen times I've introduced myself, so I usually let it drop. The party was full of Garden regulars, all of whom I've seen and talked to several times over the last year. But perhaps because I wasn't dressed for a goth affair (I was wearing my York U genuine baby-t, overalls, glasses and a conspicuous lack of dramatic makeup), their eyes all slid past me. Later we went to the Garden, and it was just as bad. I found it was easier to be Q-Girl than to individually refresh their memories. So Q-Girl I was, even to the people who recognized me.

For their part, I think it was easier on all the goths to think of me as a raver tag-along than as a girl who chose - actually chose - to go out without black lipstick and ragged fishnet tights.

(Bitches.)

I had a kickass time, though. It was the first time I've ever spent time with Q and no social buffer - and I didn't say one obnoxious thing. Well, nothing really obnoxious. The belligerence of my character is a lot like static - constantly present & eventually you only notice it on extreme occasions. Signal to noise, baby. But that alone was a victory, as I've been saying some remarkable assoholic things to him and Pixie Stix lately.

Regardless, it was fun. We spoke of S&M philosophy, malt liquor, designs on Pixie, Glen Danzig, being old & drugs. Danced to techno. Traded bites (yes, I do bite people affectionately, maybe 3 times a year if you exclude the Boy). Almost died and saved me from almost dying respectively (I just about walked in front of a speeding car). Went home to our brethren SO's at about 3:20 a.m.

A lot of fun. Wish you were there.