Progressive. Queer. Feminist. Opinionated.

Friday, August 19, 2005

God is in the business of keeping our faith, clearly...

I was sitting at the train station today (with enormous Bed Bath & Beyond bags full of bedding) with my usual bored where-the-fuck-is-the-train annoyance going on when this huge black guy with a dozen red roses saunters over and plunks himself down next to me. He's a little on the heavy side with stubble from a recently shaved head and jaw growing in. His nose is crooked from a badly set break and he has a thin scar on his right cheek. In spite of this, he was well dressed and just seemed like your average guy.

Then he starts talking. This happens to me all the time. People --- men, older men, especially --- love to single me out and tell me about their problems. Damned if I know what is is. I certainly don't have a friendly face (My natural expression is kind of a bored scowl.) He starts talking about his girl and how he's trying to go surprise her at work and take her out to dinner and on and on and on (I'm being polite at this point) when he suddenly stops, squints at me and asks:

Are you a boy or a girl?


Naturally, I'm amused at this. But, especially because the subject in mind was a big guy, I was also very wary. I didn't know how, really to respond. So I answered, a little cheekily because he seemed like a nice guy, "Does that even matter, really?"

He stopped. He thought about it. And then he answered.

No, I guess not. I was just curious.


Aha! An honest man. I relented and told him (because I was surprised and amused) that, "biologically speaking, I am female." I didn't expand because I don't go into the spectrum of gender with strangers. He kind of "hmphed" at this and went on about how cell phones were the tools of the devil.

For the record, I was wearing a white t-shirt, big baggy black cargo shorts and a hat with a dancing blue tiki man from AEO. It was also dusk.

Still, though, I was surprised at his response.

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