So, Friday we shot the pilot for that series I told you about last week. It was, of course, a blast. I stalked around the set in my hideous mullet wig and combat boots — raising my fists high above my head in glorious victory every five — announcing proudly to the world, “I’M BUTCH!”

However, the true litmus test of my feigned butchness was that after I emerged from costume and makeup, I sauntered onto the set in character…to find that the first assistant director (the A.D.) was a real live, honest to christ, trucker hat, tube socks, and camo pants-wearing DIESEL DYKE! I almost died from fright. She saw me and slowly came over and silently read me from the top of my yeti wig to the tips of my steel-toed boots. I just stood there…waiting to get my ass kicked. After about 30 seconds of this seemingly interminable horror …she grabbed my left wrist, held it up to hers for comparison, saw that we were both serendipitously wearing almost identical watches (ones with the thick, brown leather bands you would normally see worn by persons on a carnival midway, circa 1972) and said, “You fucking ROCK!” I almost wept with relief. I had passed the horrific scrutiny of one who takes her butchness oh, so SERIOUSLY. I was in.

Even better, after the shoot, said director — who has her own production company and has directed several extraordinary films for the gay and lesbian film festival circuit — came up to me and asked me for a head shot. I said, “When do you need it?”

She answered, “Umm…yesterday. We SO have to work together. You were fucking amazing.”

So, — I think I did you proud.

I hope I did.

From the shoot:

My friends, Leslie and Peter…doing the “Chi-Chi Chit Chat.”