'Gypsy had developed a routine of going to afternoon chow lines straight from the gym, meeting Butch, Big Bob, Shortman, and others for lunch. Today was no different as he got into line behind a couple of inmates from the woodshop. Looking over to the customary table where several prison queens who worked as kitchen helpers cleaning off tables were sitting. Watching their exaggerated feminine moves, loud, boisterous behavior, and reactions toward the whistles and cat calls of the other inmates, he thought about how twisted things get in prison. No, it isn't prison, he continued. Most people are and act just like they do in the real world. Prison just brings out your true self, no more, no less. Most days the bantering between the queens and other inmates made him laugh. Especially the cons who put down the queens as faggots but didn't consider themselves gay just 'cause they'd stick their dicks up a queen's ass or in her mouth. Another humorous thought used to run through Gypsy's mind, how good some of them could look. Spending hours doing up their hair, creating makeup from whatever they used to make their eyeliner, rouge, and lipstick, had him commenting to Butch one day, "Shit, my old lady didn't spend any time doing her hair and looking good. I'd give her money to buy whatever she needed till she had drawers full of shit. But night after night it was the same old crap - slippers, long, ungodly ugly pajama tops, and hair looking like a rat's nest. She could look beautiful when she wanted, just not every night. Shit, these queens spend hours getting ready to come to work, cleaning off tables and dick teasing the same fucking cons day in, day out."

'There were several other aspects to all this that had Gypsy shaking his head in disbelief. One was Sheila, a rather large black queen who had a penchant for beating up her men when she caught them cheating or even heard rumors to that effect. Getting up in age, Sheila, whose real name was Steve, had been down going on twenty years. Ugly as a bull elephant, she was now reduced to having lovers no one else wanted. Trouble was she always ended up hurting them, and finding new mates was becoming harder to do as time went by. Looking at her one day, Gypsy wondered, Where do old queens go once they get too old to be of any interest to anyone?'

[from p.46-47, original edition]

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