A week after the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras I had a customer come in with a set of plans he needs a quote on. Builder, slim, muscled, weather beaten. He opened his appointment book and a bunch of pics fell out of him in a blonde wig, white blouse, black latex mini skirt & red high heels. I kept a straight face and served him. His play time doesn't matter to me.
Remember Priscilla, Queen of the Desert? The journey started from the Imperial Hotel, one of three pubs in Erskineville. I went on a bender there one night, started at the Erko, basically working class and unemployable weirdos who play pool. There was a chick who was the prize for the pool comp. She went home with the winner of her own accord.

I didn't play.
After a couple there it was off to the Rose, the 'mixed bar' for yuppies of both orientations. Had a guy try and pick me up, I politely said I like women. The chick sitting next to me at the bar in a deep gruff voice said "Y'know, so do I!" I ended up discussing cigars and American muscle cars with her until closing.
Not ready to go home I wandered up to the Imperial.The windows were painted over. Pink. There was a security guy on the door who shook his head at me as I went in. Not many customers. A couple of obvious druggies. A couple of scrawny old men wearing football shorts and holding each others penises through the legs of the shorts and looking at me as if I was a slab of fresh meat. Some women playing pool. Shaved heads, bib and brace with no shirts. Multiple facial piercings and looking at me as If they would like to carve the fresh meat with blunt knives and no anesthetic. Suddenly sober, I skedaddled!