On a balmy spring night at the Stonewall Bar, Ellie Conant sizes up the competition with a quick glance, rolls up her shirtsleeves, bellies up to the pool table, and plunks down four quarters. In the dim light, Conant's iridescent yellow eye shadow perfectly matches her short, spiky hair. A group of younger lesbians give her the side-eye, then whisper animatedly about the glamorous butch's distinct look. A thin woman approaches Conant with a smirk. Conant confidently snatches up a pool cue and thrusts it into her opponent's hand. "You break," she says, as... More >>>