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I got 'baked(1)' last night. I needed it. It might seem out of character but character was the issue of the day. Who exactly (or even inexactly) am I?
The day started well enough. I was on time to work and ready to do a small product presentation. D (a cashier with a complexion of high colour) approached me. She was the pinkest I'd ever seen her. She was tentative. How, she asked, should she deal with person asking, "So what's the deal with the guy in the wig?"
Well that hurt, feeling that punch of heat one gets just below the center of one's rib cage. I shrugged and appologized for the discomfort she had felt.
"Say nothing or just tell them I'm transgendered." I choose that word because it has less viseral impact on people outside our community.
Later, speaking with the assistant manager it turns out that there are frequent comments made to the cashiers, most positive, some negative and some lauding Lee Valley for its support of the Trans community. I had to feel good about that.
It left me wondering, though, what exactly it is that I am doing. I am imperfect and incomplete. I have very serious doubts that I'll ever be able to afford the full path of transition and that is a fate that I'm not sure where I know how I feel.
The credit limit on my card has been increased so I was able to take my gg friend out for a drink. We sat on a patio in the setting sun. It was nice. The wine was good (Pinot Grigio) but I realized that I'm not dressing in fashion. That was enough to have me worrying. And that is a silly reason to worry.
After a glass of wine and a few smokes (I absolutely don't know why I've picked that up, but I have. I have to carefully watch my friend and copy how she holds her cigarette.) we went pack to her place. Given that she was feeling blue, we lit up (see above) and, that being the end of further conversation, I offered to stroke her hair. She loved it and nearly fell asleep, for me it awoke some very surprising feelings. I don't think I know who I am anymore.
I hindsight today, I realize that I am starved for physical affection of any sort.My emotions have been so stifled by relations, personal fear and medication that their presence now is a discomforting surprise.
(1) The contemporary term for wasted, stoned, high, lit.
