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Jobs stopped being offered pretty much immediately.

i shifted into the drag king scene which was 95% self identifying trans men and transmasc nonbinary people - basically everyone except one troupe who had more academic artistic goals for the medium. I was excited to be around friends who were open about exploring drag as a means of self expression or inner desire and conflict as they wrestled with questions on if they wanted to medically transition.

Id stand in the crowd hearing cis lesbians next to me talk about how hot my friend on stage was while misgendering them as a woman. To compensate i broke cover and cheered on my friend, my voice breaking in tone, causing the women to shoot looks over their shoulder at me and edge away as the invader come to ruin their objectification space with my dirty male gaze.

Then the hyper queen (female drag queen) came on stage to do her routine at the half point, her 5 minute set was around lesbians only wanting one thing; vaginas.

my earlier thoughts of how and what shape of drag king performance i might do crystalized suddenly into the thought that i clearly had to play up to those fears. That id be the wrestling heel. Not cheers but boos id look for from the crowd. Dick Pick, the true biological male, an alt right safe space invader come to trick queer women into dating him, obsessed with satire fascist/hyper capitalist characters from films, unaware they were satire and just thinking they were the cool.

The idea made the drag kings around me nervous, and put things on edge if i mentioned it - it was maybe too much, it might create an unpositive space for the audience, not in the spirit of what drag king should be, you need to love your king persona you see. I took my cue and exited the scene.