All the World’s a Stage and Identity is Just Another Costume
The intersection of every type of human in the park is incredible. Name an identity — from the most common to the smallest segment of current society, white cisgender heterosexual male to transgender bisexual black woman — and they will be somewhere in this giant wok on the east side of Chicago on any given night.
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.