A few weeks ago, when a mixture of heat and boredom kick-started the gestation of a seed James had planted in my head, I met a girl named Shea. I was in Iowa at Build-a-thon, working on a home for a family of Sudanese Refugees, Shea was one of the construction leaders. We bonded quickly because she was the leader in a small minority of the construction workers whom did not make fun of my Elton John sunglasses. Her hair was a-symmetrical, she had a nose ring and Buddy Holly glasses. I just assumed he was a hipster.
We were talking one day while getting water before climbing rickety ladders to shingle the roof (I was sure she was flirting with me). I noticed that she was wearing a ring on her finger, with the word “slut” engraved atop it. I pointed out the ring and assured her that, though I had known her for such a short time, I disagreed with her jewelry. She placed a gentle hand on my cheek, called me a deer sweet southern boy, and told me that the main thing the two of us had in common was the pursuit of sex. With women.
That night we went to a bar, and I realized that one person group that I loved and, sadly, had not been exposed too much in the Bible Belt, was Lesbians. They are awesome.
In the original JCD, Joey’s room mate was Alex, a character based on me, who never took of his aviator sunglasses. When I rewrote the story of “Oh! Self Righteous Fools!” I replaced Alex’ sunglasses with sleeves of tattoos and that red dot you see everyone wearing in “The Darjeeling Limited.” As I drew up the characters for the web-comic, a few days after getting home from Build-a-thon, I decided to base the room mate on Shea. Like I said, I love lesbians (not pornographically, but socially). Che is a tribute to her, but also to a deep seeded desire I have to gather up gay friends. I think the LGBT society has been terribly under represented in the South (maybe by fear of shot-guns), so that probably has something to do with it.
This is all, most likely, a subconscious rebellion against Bill O’Riely. For our Yankee readers, consider the South one big “no-spin” zone. Incept THAT. Bitches.