I click off my tape recorder, shuffle together my belongings and step out of Margaret Cho’s dressing room.

After sitting on a couch for a half-hour chat with the megastar, a question still buzzes in my head: Who is Margaret Cho?

In a daze, I walk down the hallway, past a backstage VIP lounge, through the painted metal doors and into the MGM Grand Garden Arena, where — in less than 40 minutes — she will host the Las Vegas kick-off show to the True Colors tour, a 16-city concert series promoting gay rights. Margaret was handpicked by headliner Cyndi Lauper to emcee the politically-charged rockfest, which has a lineup that includes Debbie Harry, The Indigo Girls and The Dresden Dolls.

Thousands trickle into the amphitheater and fill the sea of teal fold-up chairs — girls with flashing tiaras, men with rainbow boas, people wearing T-shirts stamped with the words “Erase Hate.” In front of me, a man shows off the Margaret Cho stand-up DVD that he just purchased outside. Others in the crowd flip through programs splashed with photos of a scantily clad Margaret decked in a fluorescent Mohawk-like headdress, posing seductively with a bottle of soy sauce.

Who is Margaret Cho? In some ways, I already know. She’s a comedian, an actress, a director and a writer. She’s a self-described “Korean American fag hag, sh-t starter, girl comic, trash talker” who brashly dishes about drugs and porn and vagina washing in sold-out theaters across the nation. She’s had a roller-coaster career that’s taken her to show business hell and back. She’s a feminist, a lifetime activist, a pioneer. 

But the woman I met backstage was a stark contrast to the Margaret I envisioned. She was calm and reserved, speaking in concise, PR-friendly phrases. No witty one-liners, no busting out into rap songs. Sitting alone with my notes, my picture of Margaret became blurred. Who is Margaret Cho?  

Suddenly, the lights dim and all eyes turn to the stage. Wearing rhinestone clogs, dark, slim-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt that says The Cliks, Margaret steps out with a microphone and waves.

“Hey, fag hags!” she yells, sparking thunderous cheers.

“I don’t understand why George Bush hasn’t been impeached yet,” she declares. “They were all about to impeach Clinton for nothing. I wish Bush would just get his d-ck sucked. But no one wants to do it.”

“I’ll do it!” a man shouts from the crowd. 

“You’ll do it?” Margaret asks, letting out a hearty laugh.  

Now, that’s Margaret.

 

***

 

 

Backstage, about an hour-and-a-half before show time, a photographer takes snapshots of Margaret standing next to a rack of jeans. She turns her body sideways and smiles over one shoulder.  

She spots me standing with her manager and informs us that she’ll just be another minute.