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Cardamom Hill

1700 North­side Dr., At­lanta, GA 30318 404-549-7012,­ Good choices: Cardamom Hill has made just about ev­ery “Best of” list in the city and at­tracted na­tional at­ten­tion. There’s noth­ing on the menu I wouldn’t rec­om­mend, but do carry money. For a less ex­pen­sive taste, try lunch. my last boyfriend all over again?

He was re­fer­ring to Ja­cob, who came home one day and an­nounced that he had en­rolled in a charm school for cross-dressers. He had rented a room in the dor­mi­tory of the charm school so he could live among his new com­mu­nity, whose stu­dents were het­ero­sex­ual as well as gay.

“I had no idea you were into this,” Robert told Ja­cob.

Ja­cob dropped his jeans to re­veal silky, fluffy un­der­wear.

“This is what I’m think­ing about ev­ery time we have sex, even though I’m not wear­ing it. Ac­tu­ally, I could care less about your pe­nis. It’s kinda gross. I’m really a male-to-les­bian cross­dresser.” Then he left the apart­ment.

Robert turned now to Lee. “What’s with the makeup?” he asked.

Lee slid his hand onto Robert’s thigh. “You know Sat­ur­na­lia, the orig­i­nal pa­gan ‘Christ­mas,’ was all about role re­ver­sal, right? Masters and slaves ex­changed roles. Laws were sus­pended. Gen­der was some­times re­versed, too, ac­cord­ing to some sources. So, I’m re­turn­ing to our roots.”

“Ac­tu­ally. It didn’t change that much,” Robert said. “Je­sus was both hu­man and god. Mary was a vir­gin. Santa Claus was prob­a­bly a pe­dophile.” He slid his hand on Lee’s.

“So,” Robert said, “who the hell are you for real?”

“I’ll an­swer that some­day soon,” Lee replied, swirling a fin­ger in one of the restau­rant’s de­lec­ta­ble sauces.

“Just amaz­ing,” he said. “Bit­ter­sweet, like life.”

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