So here I am at work, minding my p's and q's. I'm making reservations and taking care of some paperwork at the same time. At some point, I guess that you could say that I 'got in the zone'. Customer, paperwork, customer, paperwork (where's a crazy driving bus when you need one to step in front of these days?) It was around 5:00 in the evening and the sky was turning that dark reddish orange. You know, the kind of sky that happens after an atom bomb is released? Yeah, so I'm in the middle of paperwork and in walks this.... person. It was about six feet, I'd say 160 pounds and....a little androgenic looking. The person was Hawaiian looking, adorned with long weather beaten blonde hair. Remember Pat? It was just like this. I didn't know what it was. A guy, a girl, or both. It had on girl clothing, but no boobs to fill it, which could definitely be the case if it had breast cancer, right? But then what if it was just a guy that was really soft? I didn't want to call him ma'am or sir without knowing the truth. So, I did just like the people at the liquor store do when I walk up to the line with a handle of rum and pigtails in my hair. "May I see your id, .....(shit, what do I use? Sir or ma'am. Sir or ma'am.)......dear?". Upon handing me the id, I realize that they had nice long nails. Pretty ones. Oh, so she must have had breast cancer, which is why there were no boobs. Ah, ....relaxed.
(Not to go totally off, but as a side note..... I like to play a little game at work called guess everyone's weight and zodiac sign. Hey, if my plans don't work out in life, I can always join a traveling carnival. Let me just say that I have gotten pretty fucking good at the whole thing. Id say I'm 8 out of 10.)
So, I'm looking at the id and just like I thought, around 165 pounds, six feet tall, some island name, male........male......mother.....of......god..... I was WAY off. Right in front of me was a transvestite. You always expect them to look like they just stepped off set from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, so when they just look like guys in normal girl clothing, it kind of throws you through a reality loop. This, the whole transvestite thing, was not new to me. I don't know what it is, but I am a magnet for transvestites, midgets, medical anomalies (the weird ones) and pretty much anyone that is not normal by society's standards. I don't know why, but they attract to me like flies to shit, I think because I am less judging of one of them than I am to someone walking down wall street.
See, what people don't realize is that while they are judging and chastising a "non-normie" for their blatant lifestyle, we turn our heads away from people who are "normal". And to be frank, I think that that is fucked up. The outcasts are being honest about what makes them an outcast in society. They are at least true to themselves. Meanwhile, the wall street person, walks downtown looking like everyone else, indistinguishable amongst his coworkers. What people don't realize though, is that the "all American- normal people" are sometimes the ones with the most demons in their closets. Even though I think that its kinda funny to see a weather beaten truck driver dress like a woman on the weekends, they have to have some balls (no pun intended) for facing their not so accepted inner desires in such an in your face kind of way. ....hahaha. This wasn't even what I was supposed to write about...wow. This doesn't even make any sense. So for all you mofos who read this heap of shit....... suckers! This really happened a couple of days ago, but its not that serious.
