Sure, Angie could be a gigantic pain in the ass, but there were plenty of men in the Gay Rights Movement who pounded tables, screamed in faces, and crushed the souls of their allies at planning meetings. Angie paid a harsher penalty because she was a woman, and not just a woman but a forty-eight-year-old butch lesbian who didn’t wear makeup and rarely styled her frizzy, graying brown hair. Not the ideal spokesperson for a movement controlled far too much by white male assimilation queers who wished to convince the public that homosexuals were a meek telegenic people desperate to live discreet
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