Lady Looks Like a Dude

I'll admit it . . . I have been mistaken for a boy a few times in my life. I don't know if its the short hair, the freckles, or the lack of serious guzungus that lead people to believe that I'm a little boy, but it always ruins my day when my sexual identity is questioned. Once, at the gym with my ex, the girl behind the counter gave me a blue locker key (to the men's locker room). I probably would have enjoyed myself much more if I had just accepted the key and followed my male escort upstaires and to the right (instead of to the left), but instead I just pushed it back and said, "I'm going to need a red one of these." Then one night at the movie theatre, Chris the Film Cynic looked down at our row from behind which was Drew, Laura, Me, Lauren, and Jordan and exclaimed, "Oh look! Its boy, girl, boy, girl, boy!" He obviously thought that an adorable little boy was sitting in between Laura and Lauren. But he was wrong. We all burst out laughing even though I was probably crying on the inside. Then there was the time while I was working at my favorite Mexican cocina last summer, wearing an adorable terry-cloth skirt, when a shithead little six year old came up to me and asked, "Are you a boy or a girl?" Ouch, that one hurt. I answered, "I'm a girl." Her mother turned to me and said, "I'm so sorry." She looked at her daughter and said really loudly, "Honey, she's a girl. A very pretty girl. Never ask questions without asking me first." Damn yo.

But Monday was the worst of all the incidents. I went to this plumbing supply store to pick up something for my mom, and as I was waiting for one of the employees to find the valve for what my mother calls "the commode", I made eye contact with another employee. He was a middle aged man with gray hair and gold chains. And I was wearing a grey Texas shirt and hardly any makeup (as I had just been to the gym). As he's walking past me behind the counter, he looks at me in the face and says, "How ya doin' there young fella?"

"Young fella"

I almost started laughing, but seeing as how I'm a southern bell - my manners kicked in and I didn't want to make him feel bad about what a horrible mistake he had made - so I just said "Fine." I took my valve and ran out the door to call Drew and my mom about what had happened.

The moral to this story is; Yes, I look like guy. But a pretty one. Maybe.

Kina