They remained in the corner, trying to look as tough as their 16 - or 17- year-old selves could muster. At the end of our conversation, I agreedĭevon and Jeron. We sat for 45 m inutes in my car and talked about Rolanda's life. You have to wr ite about me," she said, with the earnest sureness that her story was one I wanted to tell. She was, she said, "a fan." "When I heard your name in the post office and I j ust had to meet you. A conversation ensued in which she told me she had attended a recent book signing of mine and read my work regularly. "Are you Victoria Brownworth? Really?" her voice was charmingly excited. I turned around to see a young African-American woman with very elaborate hair who w as a little too stylishly dressed for daytime, waving and rushing toward me. "Miss Victoria, Miss Victoria!" Her voice was low and drag-queen se xy-breathy. The conversation had started because Paris had been behind me in line at the post office and heard my name as I picked up my package. Rolanda Paris* had invited me to the party after we struck up a conversation outside the post office one warm afternoon. Brownworth and Philadelphia Gay News I wasn't at all sure what to expect when I was invited to my first pumping party. Brownworth PGN Contributor © 2008 Victoria A. Second of a two-part series By Victoria A.
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