By the end of the night, Sam was teaching Marsha how to use a new photo-sharing app, and Marsha was giving Sam advice on how to deal with a difficult landlord.

Marsha pulled up a chair. "Culture isn't a set of rules, honey. It’s a shared language of survival. We all know what it’s like to look in the mirror and see a person the world hasn't caught up to yet." The Night of the Mixer

Leo looked up. It was Marsha—not the icon, but a local legend in her own right. She was a trans woman in her seventies with mahogany skin and silver rings on every finger.

"The one with the cherry tarts?" Marsha asked, her eyes lighting up.