“I can’t think of a thing that should be hidden,” Margaret Cho said on a blustery Sunday in early March.
It was the morning after her wildly kinetic performance at the Gramercy Theater, and she was feeling brash. “My sexuality or experiences I’ve had that amused me, I’m willing to share,” she said.
That she did. Bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, swaddled against the elements in a kaleidoscopically patterned scarf and a hat shaped like a cinnamon bun, she offered, as she does onstage, the embarrassing minutiae of her day-to-day life.