January 16, 1995

by jkatejohnston

Dear Max,

Remember that girl that ran down State Street screaming that Teresa was a dyke?  [See 1994 Diary, December 28.]  She came in with her store credit a few days ago, trying to be all friendly as though nothing had happened, and Teresa was having none of it. Then the girl said, “I’m trying to be nice, because I know I have to deal with you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’m thinking of getting the same jacket for my brother, are you ever going to get them in larger sizes?”


“Well, what if I get it for him and it’s the wrong size? I can exchange it for a different size, right?”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because after you use that store credit you’re never coming back here again.”


“Because I said so.”

“You’re an Evil Woman.”

“I’m an evil woman? I’m not the one who went screaming down the street that I was a dyke.” And then the girl left.

Well, it’s not as dramatic as it could be. But we are loyal to fact.


Teresa is brushing Rhoda on the couch, and singing a soft unrecognizable tune.  Moses is licking her tail in the sun.