Sexual deviants are conspiring to save the world.

I went to a Chinese food place one time: my favorite Chinese resturant. They've got my favorite chow mein. Really thick.

Chow Mein is always relative. Some places give you crunchy noodles like potato sticks. Some places just give you vegetables and chicken and then there's no noodles at all. Maybe bits and pieces of a fat noodle here and there.

Not my joint on Melrose. It's out the wok, off the hook.

So on with the story. No one's at the counter when I walk in. Just some dude manning the wok. He goes in the back and tells someone to come up front.

It's a girl and she's pretty sexy. Big hogans. They're fake, but I don't care.

"2 item combo with just chow mein." Why do I even order the 2 items? I just want the chow mein. It might not be an item, but it sure is delicious. Goddamn it. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. I'll fix that right now.

I'm watching her scoop up the noodles, cause I can't think about anything else at all.
Big hands.
Oh no. Rewind to the fake tits.
Oh no. Look at the face.
Oh no. Dude. It's a man. It's a man. It's a man. No don't!!!!!!! Oh, he just used his bare hands to slide the stray noodles hanging over the box, back in. Disgusting. Yeah. Make sure you get those Lee Press On's all over my shit. Thank you.
What was he doing in the back? Did he wash his hands?
What do I do?
"What items do you want?" asks the now obviously masculine voice.
"Orange chicken," offers my now nervous and feminine voice.

At this point, for some reason he's got his face up to my container of food and he's breathing out of his nose onto my chicken. Oh Jesus Christ. I'm ready to abort mission.

I go through with it. I order some pepper beef and suck it up. He's a goddamn person right?

Right. He's a human being. A human being who may or may not have had his nuts cut off. That's not really it though. It's the fact that Melrose is only a couple of blocks South of Santa Monica Blvd. I used to work at a place and also live up there. Which means I've seen transvestites working the streets for years now.

One time me and my friend John were out skateboarding in West Hollywood (hey-ay!), and we were taking a shortcut through a neighborhood school pretty much south of the Fat Burger on Santa Monica Blvd. We ran across a meeting of about 40-50 transvestites on a baseball field while one dude, not in drag, was giving them a speech. Looked like a post-op version of The Warriors. I assume it was a work meeting about customer service. A peptalk from the Cyrus of transvestite pimps.

"Caaaaaan yooooooou diiiiiiiiiiiiiig iiiiiiiiiiiiiit?"

They just work the street. Straight up, hang out there and pick dudes up. Disease. Disease, Jerry! Disease! (to be read like a yelling George Costanza).

I'm not alone in my disgust. And it has nothing to do with homophobia. These gay guys I used to work with used to spend hours talking about how gross they thought the whole thing is. It's tranaphobia and it's perfectly ok as long as you don't punch anyone. I'm totally cool if they want to get married to each other. It would just make for a confusing ceremony.

I started to think too much. I didn't want it anymore. I shouldn't have paid for it. I told myself I would eat it, but my appetite was gone. If this dude wasn't going to look out for his own genitals, how was he going to look out for my immune system?

What could I have done though? Just said I didn't want it anymore?

"I'm sorry. I don't want that food anymore. You just touched it after you willingly severed your own cock. It's not you. It's me and my issues."

My friend Matt Hummel said I should have paid for it, then turned around and threw it in the trash. Like, "I can't eat that, and it's because you are a mutant!!!!!!!"

So I drove home thinking of ways I could salvage the meal. I was pretty poor at the time and wasting food would come back to haunt me the second starvation set in. Plus that was the whole argument concerning grocery shopping vs. fast food. Eating out is financially irresponsible, but Chinese food is almost as good as grocery shopping because you can have 2 or 3 go arounds, and it can pretty much last you a whole day.

I was thinking, I could fry it in a pan and that would kill the AIDS. I even thought of freezing it, then thawing it out again.

Now I'm pissed. I was just looking for a goddamn simple pleasure in my life, now I'm riding a rollercoaster of neurosis. My friend Jay would later that day joke that I was a headcase, that I over thought the whole situation, but you should have seen that motherfucker when we went to a barber shop in San Jose and they called out to the back room for someone to come cut his hair.

Out walks the Walter Payton of Transvestites. Shoulders like tombstones and the vocabulary of a Mexican immigrant just 3 days over the border. That's because he was a Mexican immigrant 3 days over the border. Me and my boy Ryan were laughing so hard. I couldn't even look at Jay. When I did peek, he looked like a little boy getting a haircut. You know that pout they put on before they get the lollipop?

"I got your Lollipop right here."

After the haircut he was on the streets of San Jose screaming in misery. Loud. He had a batch of HIV chicken chow mein on his head.

Back to my car in LA. I saw In and Out Burger. I parked at said restaurant. I put the Chinese food in front of a trash can, not in, but next to.

When I came out, the Chinese food was gone. Way to go, Tranny. Your plan is effective. One more homeless person goes a day without starving. The good part is, it's like 2 or 3 meals, so whoever took it didn't have to go grocery shopping.

This story made me hungry. I'm going to the bank and then to In and Out. It doesn't keep, but it's delicious and pretty cheap.