Magee’s Donuts: Where Have All the Trannies Gone?
My first assignment for losanjealous sounded easy enough: Review Magee’s Donuts on Santa Monica Blvd, and don’t forget the input of the ever-present trannies out front. Easy enough! …Right?
It was recommended that I set out early, and I’m on my way to the shop at 7:30 am. I’m a little apprehensive about interviewing a tranny sex worker so early in the morning, as generally one who has been out all night is not usually in the best of sorts by the time the sun has come up. Visions of an article laden with descriptions of a hair-pulling fight out in front of Magee’s are spurring me on.
It’s quiet on Santa Monica Blvd, even for a Sunday, and I don’t see my potential interviewee anywhere. Maybe the prostitutes take Sundays off? I enter Magee’s and gaze at the array of frosted and fried goods. In addition to your usual donut-shop fare, Magee’s offers cigarettes, Zig Zags and a wide variety of over-the-counter pain relievers. Kind of funny since they are right next door to a 7-11.
The woman behind the counter has a friendly face and smiles broadly when she asks what I would like to order. The “B” grade in the front window makes more sense when a large chunk of food flies from her mouth and lands on the bright yellow counter top. Embarrassed, she runs her fingers through her untamed hair.
I order the ham and cheese croissant (heated), an old-fashioned glazed donut, a chocolate cake donut with sprinkles and a medium-sized cup of coffee. The croissant is wide, flat and greasy, indistinguishable from the ham and cheese croissants offered at most donut shops. The old-fashioned glazed is pregnant with frying oil and a few bites of it are more than enough. I happily devour my chocolate cake donut with sprinkles, because I find these are good even when they are bad, and these are pretty good. The whole greasy pile is washed down with a medium cup of better-than-expected coffee. All this belly busting sets me back a mere $3.75.
I return later that night, only to find the corner just as lonely as it was early that morning. Inside Magee’s, I order a maple bar and ask the guy behind the counter where the “men who look like women” are that evening. He looks less congenial than the woman who was behind the counter that morning. He looks at me suspiciously and tells me that “he” comes at 10 pm. I decide it’s official, tranny sex workers take Sundays off.
I revisit Magee’s the next morning. And the next night. And two mornings after that. What is going on? I have eaten more than half a dozen donuts by this time and still not seen even one tranny hooker! It doesn’t look like there has been a sweep in the area. The homeless are still around. I drive down past Vine thinking perhaps they’ve simply changed locations but I only see the usual Mexican call-boys. Then I drive west of Highland to see if any of the trannies have gone to fraternize with the “gutter boys” between Highland and La Brea. Nothing. I don’t bother driving to the Pleasure Chest, as it’s pretty much just muscle-y WeHo types for hire up there.
So, on the morning my review is due I give up on my quest for a tranny exclusive. If you are looking your one-stop shop for smokes, Aleve, coffee and a subpar apple fritter, then Magee’s is the place for you. Just don’t go looking for any hot tranny lovin’, because it seems they are fresh out.
6705 Santa Monica Blvd
Open 24 hours