Guys in drag I can take. The giant cross on the wall turned me off

I always know I am in for a fun adventure when my friend Kim is the activities director. So the other night when she told me she was taking me out for a birthday celebration filled with surprises, I knew to expect the unexpected. After a great sushi dinner we headed toward the entertainment portion of the evening - no details were provided and I was excited!

To my delight, we arrived at a theater! I love watching plays so I was super excited to experience the arts for a night. The marquee should have raised a few red flags, but ever the optimist, I simply pondered to myself all the possibilities that "Bad Night In A Men's Room Off Sunset Boulevard" would hold. The fact that we were smack in the middle of the sexually liberal and all loving Hillcrest, never even crossed my naive little mind.

We sat in the very front row in this tiny little eclectic theater. I had no idea what was coming next. As I started reading through the program, Kim nudges me and tells me that there is a little more to this play than meets the eye. I get to the big passage where the debate about who can love whom or have sex with whom or marry whom is discussed. Despite the passage of Proposition 8 banning gay marriage in California, the topic is still a major hot button. I support gay marriage so a play articulating those challenges and struggles for equality piqued my interest.

Just before the lights went down, Kim informed me that there was only one female in the play and she was not the love interest. There were some transgender roles being played out. I looked up at her to respond, but my attention was taken up by this enormous wooden cross with a crucifix hanging in the middle of the set. The guys in drag didn't faze me at all. But I was contemplating walking out due to that oversized, out of place cross bearing down on me.

My mind was open as the play began. It quickly shut after about 10 minutes of the worst acting I had ever witnessed. The main character pees on the stage in quiet defiance, not really adding much to the actual conflict being set up. All these characters did was shout at each other. There was so much overacting and yelling that I thought I was in the middle of auditions for American Idol.

Every single stereotype you can think of played out in the first act of this play. There was alcoholism, incest, addiction, rehab, jail time, gender confusion, cross dressing, gender reassignment, bisexuality, child neglect, infidelity, depression, fame, and family dysfunction. It was unreal. And all the time they yelled at each other in their attempt to communicate. I was distracted by the phenomenal amount of cuss words, which saturated the script. It was difficult to focus on the meaning of the words hidden behind all those swear words.

Just as I was sensing the beginning signs of a yawn and praying intermission would interrupt my wandering mind, the climax came - literally.

The married but sexually confused Hollywood actor that was caught in a men's room enjoying sexual favors similar to those of Senator Craig and the flamboyant, doe-eyed transgender stage hand come together for a pivotal scene. They stare not so convincingly into each other's eyes and share an awkward embrace. Now if the acting had been less than horrible, perhaps I could have gotten lost in their passionate embrace and believed in their longing for one another. But because the acting was so forced and so disconnected, I didn't buy into this strange story of forbidden love.

So they danced together and kissed. And soon their clothes were being tossed onto the floor. I fully expected undergarments to be part of the wardrobe selections. But no - there before me, just five short feet away - two men stood stark naked with their junk swinging in the breeze. As their bodies molded to one another my only thought was - "Hmmm. Not so impressive. I've seen better."

The dominant man hoists the other man up, wrapping his legs around his naked body. I grabbed for Kim's leg and pinched her as if to ask "Why, Kim? Why did you bring me here."

That would have been a perfect place to call "scene" and bring up the lights for intermission. But we weren't done being voyeurs yet. They moved to the bedroom and began to loudly explore their happy endings with each other. I wanted to look away. I really did. I think I was frozen in shock. And finally, almost mercifully, the stage lights dimmed and the house lights brightened.

I sat rigid in my seat, not moving, my eyes staring forward. I slowly turned my head toward Kim and before I could even begin to speak, she was apologizing all over the place. This was not what she had expected at all. She was just as horrified as I was.

And then we laughed - hard, uncontrollable nervous laughter poured out of us. Probably partly to relieve the awkward stress of watching two men play out scenes from Deep Throat and partly because we felt a little embarrassed that we didn't enjoy it the way the rest of the audience seemed to.

We contemplated leaving before the second act. But then, we aren't quitters. And seriously, what else could they possibly do to shock us anymore than they already had? With renewed atitudes and open minds, we stayed and laughed our way through the much funnier and less naked second half.

I love that Kim planned a fabulous evening for my birthday. Her intent was amazing. Her execution, a little off.