We Interrupt this Transition

CHAPTER SEVEN: Team Building Activities

Located west of Downtown and south of Hollywood, Koreatown, also known as ‘K-town’, is where you’ll find a large collection of nightclubs, restaurants, and bars, including the iconic Brown Derby. Tucked away in a small little corner is a cocktail bar and lounge called ‘Potions and Poisons.’ 

In addition to the drinks and the ambiance, there is also another reason people flock to it: Karaoke. 

The word ‘Karaoke’ comes from Japan, where it is a portmanteau of the words for ‘empty’ and ‘orchestra’. It shares common roots with ‘Karate’, which is a combination of the words for ‘empty’ and ‘hand.’

While only the latter is considered a martial art, both are surprisingly efficient ways to inflict large amounts of pain. 

Julia, Erin’s wife, had already secured a room for all of them, and when Erin walked in, followed closely by the rest of the team, there were hugs and kisses and nose nuzzles. The six of them - Erin, Julia, Chandra, Sam, Daria, and Sheri packed into the karaoke booth, looked through the drinks menu, ordered drinks entirely as alcoholic as they were pretty, and then started taking turns picking songs and generally having a good time. 

Julia belted out ‘Everywhere’ by Michelle Branch with Erin looked on, besotted, at her wife, when Chandra engaged in a side conversation with Sam and the team. 

“So, congratulations on getting through the videos.” said Chandra. 

“Yeah, that was a hell of a week. If I never see another penis again, it’ll be too soon,” said Sam.

Chandra stiffened up and raised an eyebrow. “What, really?” 

Sheri nodded. “I mean, no one wants to see an unsolicited penis.”

Sam took a swig of her drink, the ‘Aloe Guvna.’

Chandra threw back her head and laughed. “Yeah. I never got that. Why do they think that it is in any way attractive?” 

“I’m a licensed psychologist,” Sheri added, “and I have no idea. The nearest I can figure is that they think it will generate sexual excitement in a potential partner. Which is ridiculous. And they’d know it’s ridiculous if they actually listened to a woman. Any woman. And lord knows, listening to a woman you want to get in bed is probably a better evolutionary strategy anyway. I don’t know why evolution hasn’t bred these people out of the gene pool.”

“Mutants,” said Chandra. “That’s gotta be it. They’re the mutants.” 

“Honestly, that’s one of the reasons I like spending time with Jimmy,” said Sam. “He’s a great listener. Always the perfect gentleman, never made me feel uncomfortable or anything. He’s so sweet, and when you get to know him, he’s vulnerable and sensitive and I feel safe with him, you know? Like, he’s got your back, and you know it. And you want to have his.”

“Oh?” said Chandra, knowingly, taking a sip of a drink called ‘Purple & Gold’. “I think I get it,” said Chandra, and winked at Sam. 

Sam blinked back. 

“Get what?” said Sam.

“You’ve got a crush on him, don’t you?” asserted Chandra. 

“What?” laughed Sam. “Oh, boy, no. And if I did, it’d never work.” 

“Oh, honey,” said Chandra. “It’s okay to have a crush on your gay friend. That’s like, 90% of the fun of hanging out with them.” 

“What?” said Sam. 

“Jimmy’s gay?” said Sheri, confused. 

“No,” said Sam. “Jimmy’s not gay.” 

“Jimmy’s not gay?” said Chandra, who seemed rather surprised by this.

“He’s not. I assure you,” continued Sam. “That’s not why it wouldn’t work.” 

“Oh? Did you ever try–” Sheri started. 

“No,” said Sam, forcefully cutting Sheri off. “Look, Jimmy’s great. He’s funny, he’s kind, he’s fun to hang out with, he’s smart, he’s loyal, he’s generous, he’s not bad looking. Kinda dashing, actually. But he’s my best friend. That’s it. I’m just not attracted to him.”

“You sound like you’re attracted to him,” teased Chandra. 

“He’s not my type,” said Sam. 

“What is your type?” asked Sheri. 

Daria took a sip of her drink, the ‘Flip the Applause.’

“Women,” said Sam, matter-of-factly. 

Daria nearly did a very expensive spit-take. 

***

Pranav held the door open for Jimmy as they entered Rocco’s Tavern on Main Street in Culver City. 

Daryl was over at the bar when he overheard the lady next to him say “Hey, isn’t that Jimmy Howard from that game show?” and turned to look. 

Daryl immediately recognized Jimmy, and got up to greet him. 

“Hey Jimmy, great to see you again.” Daryl turned to Pranav. “And Dr. Vadakar, we haven’t met, but I’m Daryl Marsters. I’m VP of programming at Garden Alpha.”

“Oh, you’re Daria’s boss,” said Pranav. “Nice to meet you too. Jimmy and I were just going to grab an after-work drink or two, we just finished up the video submissions and are unwinding.” 

“Oh, who won the penis pool?” asked Daryl.

Pranav was taken aback. “I did. How did you know we did a penis pool?” 

Daryl laughed. “Doctor, I got my start in reality television at Fox Reality. There is always a penis pool.” 

Pranav looked at Jimmy, who just shrugged. 

“This is my first reality show. My background is game shows,” said Jimmy. 

“Well, Daryl, you can call me Pranav. I’m only ‘Doctor Vadakar’ when I’m in a professional capacity. Say, you want to join Jimmy and I?”

“Sure - I just finished up dinner, but I could join for a few drinks,” said Daryl.

“It’s a nice night,” said Jimmy. “You wanna do the patio?” Jimmy was kind of hoping for the patio, it was just easier to talk and the cool night air was refreshing. 

“Well, I was kind of watching the game,” said Daryl, “and wanted to see how it ends.”

“Who’s playing?” asked Pranav. 

“Tennessee Titans at Kansas City Chiefs,” said Daryl.

Pranav gave Daryl a look of disapproval. “Daryl, can you really not figure out how that game’s gonna end?” 

“Ah, I guess you’re right,” said Daryl. “Alright, patio’s fine.”

Jimmy didn’t really understand what that last exchange meant, but it did mean they’d be out on the patio, so he didn’t really mind it. 

The waitress came over and asked for everyone’s drink order. 

“Cuba Libre,” said Pranav. 

“Modelo,” said Daryl.

“I’ll have an Amold… Emerld. An Armnolp…” Jimmy sighed, and hung his head for a second. 

“I’ll have an Ar-nold Palm-er”, said Jimmy, slowly and deliberately.” 

“Not a drinker?” said Daryl. 

“Not really,” said Jimmy. “Don’t want to mix alcohol with my anti-depressants.”

“Really?” said Dr. Pranav. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.” 

“Thanks,” said Jimmy. “It’s a learned skill. Yeah, sometimes I get some dark moods. But I know how to push through it when it’s time to work, don’t worry. And then there’s the other reason I don’t drink.”

“What’s that?” said Daryl.

“When I get drunk, I say some pretty stupid stuff,” said Jimmy.

“I hate to tell you this, Jimmy,” said Pranav. “But after spending a week working with you, you say some pretty stupid stuff while stone sober.” 

Jimmy chuckled, and elbowed Pranav playfully. 

“Nah, not like that. I get too open with my feelings when I’m drunk. Say things I don’t mean. Stupid things. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Lord knows we have more than enough to worry about,” said Pranav. 

“Project not going well?” asked Daryl, concerned. 

“No, it’s going well enough,” said Jimmy. “Just tedious.”

“Oh, good,” said Daryl, relieved. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous about a project before.”

“Yeah,” said Jimmy, “it’s way out there, I get it. But controversy is good for ratings. Or whatever streaming services use instead of ratings.”

“Well, it’s more than that,” said Daryl. “I’m a little concerned about the safety

of everyone involved.”

Jimmy and Pranav looked at each other confused.

“What do you mean?” asked Jimmy. 

“Well, you put out a call for macho men. What if you get someone actually violent?  Think about it,” said Daryl. “There is a lot of transphobic bullshit out there. Someone - someone who doesn’t have their head screwed on right, mind - might get to the soundstage, they get the whole big speech, and they decide that they won’t allow George Soros, or the Illuminati, or whoever to perpetuate the conspiracy to tamper with America’s bodily fluids. I’m worried that they’re going to attack your host, or Daria, or Sam, or your psychologist, or you, Pranav.” 

“Not me?” said Jimmy. 

“No, I don’t think they’d attack you, Jimmy,” said Pranav. “And by the way, congratulations on having a white penis.” 

Jimmy frowned. “Not like I chose it from a list of options,” he muttered. 

“Point is, I’m going to make some calls, and we’ll have security tight for the soundstage. Of course, that’s just step one.”

“Step one?” Jimmy started to get concerned.

“Filming is going to take place over an entire year,” Daryl pointed out. “You’ll have nearly a hundred ex-contestants who - yes, have to sign an NDA - but who may just blab about what you’re doing anyway. We have to assume at some point during the project, this is going to leak, and then you’re going to have protests, violent nut jobs, the works.” 

Jimmy stopped. And he thought about it. A gnawing doubt grew in the pit of his stomach. Around that time, the waitress came over with their drinks. 

“Is there anything else I can get you,” she asked?

“I think I’m going to try one of those Cuba Libres,” said Jimmy. “In fact. Make it a double.” 

***

By this time, the girls were done with the fancy cocktails and just mostly drinking shots. Chandra and Sheri were dancing to some Abba, while Daria looked into her empty shot glass, wondering what the hell she should ask Sam. Because she absolutely wanted to ask her all about what it’s like for, you know, factory-default lesbians and what they thought of aftermarket-parts lesbians. 

Her confusion was so evident on her face that Sam actually headed over and sat next to her.

“Hey,” said Sam. “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah,” actually, said Daria. “I kinda want to ask you what… like, what being a lesbian is like, but that seems too personal? And we’re co-workers. Technically, I’m contracting you. Maybe I shouldn’t be opening up that can of worms.” 

“Okay, you know how straight men find women attractive?” said Sam. 

“Yeah,” said Daria. 

“It’s like that,” said Sam, and shrugged. “Only I’m a woman.”

Daria shook her head, feeling foolish. 

“I know. It’s stupid,” said Daria. “I just… I know I’m a woman. And I know I like women. But I kinda feel like… like the women who like women won’t like me? Like I’m… I’m a lesbian with an asterisk. And if I consider myself a lesbian, it’s like, stolen valor?”

Erin came over and rubbed Daria on the back. 

“Oh, Daria, sweetie, you are one hundred percent lesbian,” said Erin. “Just like I’m lesbian, just like my wife is lesbian…”

“I’m bisexual,” corrected Julia. “Don’t erase me.”

“I would never,” Erin replied. “I’m very lucky you’re bisexual.” 

“You know it,” said Julia, and stuck out her tongue. 

“It’s just… weird for me,” Daria said. “I’ve been out and open and, miracle of miracles, I pass, and that’s wonderful, but I never really learned how to date in my teens like all the other girls. And I never really caught up.” 

“Join the club,” said Sam. “I keep saying that they should make ‘lesbian’ a four credit course with a lab at most colleges.”

“What, do they only offer that at the Seven Sisters?” said Erin. 

“I don’t date much either,” said Sam. “Mostly because before I landed this pitch, I was so worried about not having landed a pitch. And now that I’ve landed a pitch, I’m worried about seeing it through to the end. What about you, Julia, how did you and Erin meet?”

“Erin and I met in college, sophomore year at PSU. We got married soon after we graduated,” said Julia. “I moved to L.A. for grad school, and Erin came along and decided to follow her dream of making it big in entertainment.” 

“Of course, back when we were dating, and even the first couple of years into our marriage, neither of us knew we were anything but straight,” said Erin. 

“I kind of suspected you were bi, actually,” said Julia. “Turns out that was just projection.” 

“Sorry, Sam,” intercepted Sheri, having finished up her dance with Chandra. “But now that you have a bunch of trans women as friends, you’re going to have to start accepting that we’re going to be talking about our difficulties and traumas a lot.”

Julia nodded. “Oh my god, yes. I love you Erin, but sometimes it’s a lot, you know?” 

“How do you cope?” asked Chandra of Julia, suddenly realizing she was the only one here who was cis-het. 

Julia shrugged. “We snuggle a lot. That really helps.”

Daria frowned. That wasn’t a viable solution for her. Not unless she wanted to get a cat. 

“Honestly,” Sheri said. “I think a part of it is that we talk with each other a lot about our shared experiences because… nobody else does.”

“Yes!” said Daria suddenly, leaping from her seat. “Yes, Sheri! You get it. You see! This is… we can show people. We can share our stories through the project. Trans people are going to point to our work and say: ‘Yes! That’s what it feels like!’ To be… fucking relatable.”

Daria finished speaking only to realize that she was quite sober sitting down, and quite drunk standing up. She decided to sit down again.

“Sorry. I think I’m drunk,” said Daria. 

“Well, yeah,” said Sam. “If you’re not, you’re doing girls’ night wrong.”

***

Jimmy looked over the notes he had taken over the past hour on the notepad that Sheri had given to him when they first met. 

“So, there’s at the soundstage, there’s at the venue, there’s travel, and you have to worry about the contestants getting harassed at the airport if they start to not match their IDs, there’s the possibility they might run into a crazy family or friend if we allow home visits, which Sheri said we should so that they stay informed and sane, and we have to also watch out for random yahoos,” said Pranav. “Is there anything we missed?” 

Daryl shrugged. “It’s a start. I’ll bring it up with Garden Alpha security afterwards. You still have some time, nobody ever got killed on a zoom call, after all. I’m also sorry that I’m kinda… discussing work during non-work time.”

“Hey, it’s not just work. It’s a genuine concern,” said Jimmy. “It was about safety, and you didn’t want to wait till Monday.”

“Now, if you were to get on our butts about the catering, then we might tell you not to talk about it,” said Pranav. 

“Have you thought about the catering?” said Daryl, jokingly.

“No. And I don’t intend to until Monday at the earliest,” said Jimmy. 

“Fair enough.” Daryl craned his head over and behind Jimmy to get a glimpse of the Chiefs-Titans game. Jimmy knew nothing about sports, but even he could tell it was a slaughter. Daryl was transfixed, nonetheless, and got up to get a closer look at the screen.

“So,” asked Pranav. “I’ve been meaning to ask this, Jimmy. How’d you and Sam meet? Were you like, dating or something?”

“No, no,” said Jimmy. “Nothing like that.”

Jimmy paused.

“I mean, she’s great, and I did ask her out once. Just once. For coffee. This would have been right after we got the bad news about ‘Martinet’ not getting approval past the pilot stage,” said Jimmy.  

“What happened?” asked Pranav. 

“We got too many notes from the executives. Don’t cast these unknowns, cast these known comedians with massive abrasive egos. Go for conflict, not for camaraderie. Cut your 45 minute show down to 22 minutes. Don’t make the Martinet character too mean – which is kind of the point of the show, is that the Martinet is a martinet.”

Pranav patted Jimmy on the back. 

“Jimmy. Buddy. Friend. Pal,” said Pranav. 

Jimmy looked at Pranav.

“I mean what happened with Sam and you?” Pranav said. 

“We had coffee,” Jimmy shrugged. “And while she said I was very nice and sweet, that she just wasn’t interested in me as more than a friend, that it wasn’t anything wrong with me, that it was her.” 

“And then she moved in with you?” Pranav asked incredulously.

“She wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to head back to England or continue trying the American market,” said Jimmy. “She really wanted to stick it out, but without anything lined up, and without a place to stay that she could afford, she felt like she had to give up.”

“Here’s the thing you have to understand, Pranav,” Jimmy continued. “Sam was a large fish in a very small pond in England. She’d already pretty much maxed out her career ambitions there, and she’s just

so talented, and so good at showrunning, and just amazing to talk shop with, she’s brilliant. And I couldn’t help but think what a waste it was. Especially because I wanted to continue working with her. And there I am with an entire small guest house I don’t even use, and I’m thinking: Hold on a tic. So I offered to let her rent it out at below market rate so that she could try to land a series here.” 

“Oh,” said Pranav. “I get it.” 

“Get what?” asked Jimmy. 

“You’ve got a really bad crush on her,” said Pranav. “Still.” 

Jimmy frowned, not liking even the mild teasing. 

“I mean. No.” said Jimmy. 

“No.” said Jimmy, more forcefully.

“No?” said Jimmy, unconvinced.

“No-no-no-no-no,” said Jimmy, reassuring himself. 

“Well,” said Jimmy, painfully.

“I mean, okay… yes. But I’m a professional. I can handle this professionally. I asked her out once, asked her if she wanted more than coffee, she said no, she didn’t think of me in a romantic or sexual way, and I dropped it. It’s over.”

“Hey, no, everybody has little workplace crushes that we can’t act on. It’s just human. And you’re right. So long as it doesn’t interfere with work, or make anyone uncomfortable… the heart wants what the heart wants,” said Pranav.

“You know, sometimes I think that if I were only–” said Jimmy, then stopped there. 

Pranav raised an eyebrow.

“If you were only what?” said Pranav.

“Nevermind,” said Jimmy. “I was about to say one of those stupid things I say when I get a little alcohol in me.” 

***

No one was quite sure who made the suggestion to relocate to Dockweiler Beach. The idea seemed to have coalesced spontaneously from the alcoholic vapors that now unified the women in the ‘drunk girl hivemind,’ if you will. Get women, alcohol, and good vibes together, and invariably they will find a way to do something resembling an ancient tribal ritual. Such has been the case since antiquity, when the Maenads went on a bender and mistook King Penthius for a lion.

In the case of Sam, Sheri, Daria, Erin and Julia - as Chandra had decided to call it a night - dancing around a firepit seemed sufficiently pagan to suit needs. 

They made the uber driver stop off at a convenience store in El Segundo and got sports drinks and bottles of water to hydrate themselves in an effort to curb some of the damage they would clearly feel in the morning, and later, when they got to the beach, they were lucky enough to find a firepit where the previous occupants still left plenty of wood beside it. Sam was leaning against a log, right in the nice ‘comfy’ range of fire, with Sheri and Daria on either side of her. 

Erin and Julia were laying on their backs on the sand, holding hands, looking at the stars. 

“God, they look so cute together,” Shari said. 

“Yeah. Lucky.” said Daria. 

Sheri sighed. “Yeah. So lucky.” 

“Could you imagine being in love like that?” Sheri pined. 

“Oh sure. Imagine, yes,” said Daria. “But I just don’t think it’s for me.” 

“Why not? I mean Daria, you don’t just pass, you’re hot-cute. I bet you could have any lesbian you wanted,” said Sheri. 

Sam wondered if maybe she should get up and tend to the fire at this point, being caught in the cross-fire. 

“It’s not the physical attraction. It’s the social skills. Maybe I find someone attractive, or they find me attractive. But then I get nervous. And while I’m good most of the time, when I get nervous, all the autism spills out my face-hole. Maybe I look good - I mean, I better, it cost enough and it hurt enough - but when people get to know me, that’s when they get the ‘something’s not quite right here’ vibe.” 

“Oh, shush, if they can’t handle you being you, then it’s not going to work out anyway. Me? I have the opposite problem,” said Shari. “People find me likable, but I just - I realized who I was too late in life. I’m always going to have ‘tells’ because of it. People have trouble seeing me as a woman. So do I, most days. Women that I talk to tend to assume I’m a gay man. Which I’m not. And yeah, maybe I could get FFS and GRS and all the other alphabet surgeries, but I’m not sure I could afford any of it, I pay for my own insurance. I’m not sure they’d even cover it, they might claim it’s ‘cosmetic.’” 

Yeah, Sam absolutely decided that it was time to stoke the fire, and she got up and threw another unnecessary bit of wood on it, letting Daria and Sheri have their conversation directly. 

“You know, you’re subcontracted now to Sam and Jimmy’s production company, which subcontracts to Garden, but maybe we can work something out where you come in as a Garden employee and we subcontract you out to the production company instead. Then you’d basically have the same health benefits as any Garden employee.” 

“What would change, day to day?” asked Sheri. 

“Nothing. Only instead of you working for Sam and Jimmy as a contractor, you’d be working for Garden. We’d then subcontract your services to Sam and Jimmy, who are, in turn, subcontracting to Garden” explained Daria. 

“Wait… run that by me again,” said Sheri. 

“Right now, Garden pays Sam and Jimmy, and Sam and Jimmy pay you. But instead, Garden will pay you, Sam and Jimmy will pay Garden for you, and you’d be doing work for them, but you’d be working for Garden.”

“This seems incredibly complex for something simple,” said Sheri.

“Actually, it’s one of the simpler arrangements I’ve come across. You wouldn’t believe what goes on with Hollywood math,” said Daria. “You should do it. You’d get paid the same, it simplifies our bookkeeping, and you get better health insurance.”

“Sam!” Daria called. “Now that you’re greenlit, can you switch Sheri over to a subcontractor for Garden instead of a subcontractor for your production company?”

“Could do,” said Sam, returning from the fire pit, “but why?”

“Health insurance,” said Sheri. 

“Ah yes,” said Sam knowingly. “That old American torture factory. I don’t understand why you don’t just have an NHS.”

“Eh, the NHS is great if you break your leg. But I’ve heard horror stories from trans women in the UK about the NHS,” said Sheri.

“What, seriously?” said Sam. This was news to her. 

“Yeah, I’m glad I live in California. Where the health industry screws everyone over more or less equally,” said Daria, sarcastically.

“What about you, Sam?” asked Sheri. 

“Me? Uh, I had my tubes tied by the NHS. That’s really it,” said Sam, not quite understanding. 

“No, I mean, how do you find dating? Finding Ms. Right?” asked Sheri.

Sam shrugged. “I’m not looking right now,” said Sam. “I’m focused on my career. That’s really all of it.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” said Daria. 

“Sure, it gets lonely, physically, but Jimmy and I keep each other company socially. And that’s good enough for right now.”

***

“I don’t know why you don’t have a girlfriend already,” said Pranav. “I mean look at you, Jimmy. You’re attractive, you’re independently wealthy, you’re famous, and - and, and this is the most important - you’re a good man and a sweet person.”

“I know, I know,” said Jimmy, frustratedly. “But I just… I don’t know. I’ve dated before. I’ve even dated seriously before. But there’s just something that always comes up and it’s not really fair to anyone I would date until I figure out what the hell that would be.”

“Have you considered seeing a professional regularly?” asked Pranav. 

“Nah, I don’t know if my career could handle the scandal of hiring a prostitute,” said Jimmy. “Plus I’d be so embarrassed. Also, it’s illegal, I’d have to drive to Nevada to hire one legally, and that’s, like, what, six hours?”

“A professional therapist, Jimmy,” said Pranav. 

“Oh. Well, I’ve seen therapists. Since I was a child, actually. Not one of them really seemed to help. The Zoloft does, but… not talk therapy.”

“Maybe you’ve just been seeing the wrong therapists,” said Pranav. 

“Possibly. But at this point, I’m fine with where I am. I’ve got enough money saved up that I don’t have to work again unless I want to, I have my own place, I have interesting co-workers. I’m living the American Dream. I shouldn’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.” 

“No,” said Pranav. “But I think you need to be happy to be in a relationship. It’s funny, you remind me a little of some of the people who come to me for consultations; and I always give them the same advice: you have to learn to love yourself first. And you should, Jimmy. I know I tease you a lot, but you’re a good man.”

“Yeah, and I know why you tease, too. You’re checking in on me,” said Jimmy. “Sort of, throwing rocks at my force field.”

“Come again?” 

“Like, it’s this social interaction thing we men do,” said Jimmy. “We don’t really talk to each other openly about our feelings so we throw little barbs against the force fields our friends put up around us. If it bounces off us, or we throw a little barb back, the force field is up, our defenses are secure. But if you actually manage to get past the forcefield with a little barb, then you know something’s wrong and then you can take your friend aside and talk about what’s really going wrong.”

“You know, I never thought about it like that, but you’re absolutely right,” said Pranav. 

The football game having come to its inevitable and tedious conclusion, Daryl headed back to the patio table to rejoin Jimmy and Pranav. 

“Sorry about that. Couldn’t tear my eyes away,” said Daryl. “So, what have you been talking about?” 

“My mental health, apparently,” said Jimmy. 

Pranav snickered. “Sure, if you want to put it like that, that’s technically true. But you’re too hard on yourself, man. You’re a good egg.”

***