A chance encounter... making a new friend.
Posted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 3:12 pm
Hi all,
Something happened this morning that put a decidedly jolly spin on my day. As I left home and started walking toward the subway station, I noticed there was a very, uh, scantily- (or, is that "sexily-"?)clad young woman walking about a hundred paces ahead of me at a brisk pace. She wore "wedge" high-heeled sandals, a denim skirt for which the term "mini" was invented, and what looked to be a fairly sheer, "blousy" top. At first, I only saw her from the back but, even then, I could tell she was a "looker"; she had a luxurious mane of auburn hair that bounced with her every step and she certainly "walked the walk"... self-assured and used to turning heads.
As we neared the subway station, I saw that she looked back at me a couple of times. True to my habit, I picked up the pace a little so that I'd soon be walking ahead of her. I figured she was probably a little uncomfortable having a man following her like that. (I had no idea she was heading to the subway as well.) As I came, er, um, abreast of her, she turned to look at me; our eyes met and she smiled. I smiled back. She must've been, oh, all of 23 or 24 years old. As it happened, we got to the subway pretty much together. While we were going down the stairs, she said, "Can you believe how how it is, already?" Yeah, I told her, I could believe it.
Long story short: within the ten or so minutes it took the train to pull in, she and I were chatting about our dreams and hopes for the future, about what we want out of life, about my job and her school, as if we we'd been friends for years. It was totally strange, in a way; I sort of started forgetting about her appearance (she was extremely pretty, by the way, with eyes fit to make a heart melt). But it got even stranger. As we sat there, on the train, next to each other, almost but not quite knee-to-knee, she started talking about a friend who, in her opinion, was weird enough to possibly be a schizophrenic. When I (gently) pressed for details, she said, "Well, you know, she just sorta looks weird; she dresses weird; she doesn't know how to put on makeup properly." To which I replied that this didn't mean that her friend was schizophrenic; she was just expressing her individuality, her uniqueness... which happened to be different from that of my travelling companion's. "Anyway," I added, "why don't you just sit her down and show her how to put makeup on? I mean, even I could do that!" (And, no, I have absolutely no idea where that one came from, I swear! I just blurted it out!) This, of course, piqued her curiosity and I told her that, yes, I dabble in both makeup as well as in the very kind of clothes she was wearing (which suited her well, I also admitted). She was totally intrigued by the whole thing. In the ten or fifteen minutes we spent together on the subway, talk turned to fashion, looks, femininity, individuality, and attempted definitions of "sexiness."
While we'd been waiting for the train, she'd almost told me what her true career aim was (presently, she's studying as an oral hygienist--no jokes please) but refrained for fear that I would think it's stupid. As I was getting ready to leave, I extended my hand and introduced myself, telling her that it had been a pleasure to meet her. "Likewise," she said as she took my hand. Her name is Marilyne. Just before I got off the train, I told her that I was hoping our paths would cross again (and she hoped so, too) and that, maybe, next time, she'd tell me what her true dreams and hopes are. I wished her luck and success in her studies and left before the doors closed. She waved goodbye. In a whoosh, she was gone.
You know, folks, even if I never see this person again, I feel something good happened today. Marilyne met a man who was able to chat with her as an equal, without drooling all over the place despite her striking appearance and her youthful exhuberance, and I met yet another person who wasn't intimidated by the fact that I'm a gender-variant soul (admittedly, it didn't show much today that this is, indeed, who and what I am but, still, she was curious and receptive, not offended or weirded out).
Be who you are. Others will feel more comfortable being who they are. It's actually no more complicated than that. It really isn't.
I'm off to my father's for a few days. I hope you all have a great weekend and I'll catch you some time next week.
Love,
CJ
Something happened this morning that put a decidedly jolly spin on my day. As I left home and started walking toward the subway station, I noticed there was a very, uh, scantily- (or, is that "sexily-"?)clad young woman walking about a hundred paces ahead of me at a brisk pace. She wore "wedge" high-heeled sandals, a denim skirt for which the term "mini" was invented, and what looked to be a fairly sheer, "blousy" top. At first, I only saw her from the back but, even then, I could tell she was a "looker"; she had a luxurious mane of auburn hair that bounced with her every step and she certainly "walked the walk"... self-assured and used to turning heads.
As we neared the subway station, I saw that she looked back at me a couple of times. True to my habit, I picked up the pace a little so that I'd soon be walking ahead of her. I figured she was probably a little uncomfortable having a man following her like that. (I had no idea she was heading to the subway as well.) As I came, er, um, abreast of her, she turned to look at me; our eyes met and she smiled. I smiled back. She must've been, oh, all of 23 or 24 years old. As it happened, we got to the subway pretty much together. While we were going down the stairs, she said, "Can you believe how how it is, already?" Yeah, I told her, I could believe it.
Long story short: within the ten or so minutes it took the train to pull in, she and I were chatting about our dreams and hopes for the future, about what we want out of life, about my job and her school, as if we we'd been friends for years. It was totally strange, in a way; I sort of started forgetting about her appearance (she was extremely pretty, by the way, with eyes fit to make a heart melt). But it got even stranger. As we sat there, on the train, next to each other, almost but not quite knee-to-knee, she started talking about a friend who, in her opinion, was weird enough to possibly be a schizophrenic. When I (gently) pressed for details, she said, "Well, you know, she just sorta looks weird; she dresses weird; she doesn't know how to put on makeup properly." To which I replied that this didn't mean that her friend was schizophrenic; she was just expressing her individuality, her uniqueness... which happened to be different from that of my travelling companion's. "Anyway," I added, "why don't you just sit her down and show her how to put makeup on? I mean, even I could do that!" (And, no, I have absolutely no idea where that one came from, I swear! I just blurted it out!) This, of course, piqued her curiosity and I told her that, yes, I dabble in both makeup as well as in the very kind of clothes she was wearing (which suited her well, I also admitted). She was totally intrigued by the whole thing. In the ten or fifteen minutes we spent together on the subway, talk turned to fashion, looks, femininity, individuality, and attempted definitions of "sexiness."
While we'd been waiting for the train, she'd almost told me what her true career aim was (presently, she's studying as an oral hygienist--no jokes please) but refrained for fear that I would think it's stupid. As I was getting ready to leave, I extended my hand and introduced myself, telling her that it had been a pleasure to meet her. "Likewise," she said as she took my hand. Her name is Marilyne. Just before I got off the train, I told her that I was hoping our paths would cross again (and she hoped so, too) and that, maybe, next time, she'd tell me what her true dreams and hopes are. I wished her luck and success in her studies and left before the doors closed. She waved goodbye. In a whoosh, she was gone.
You know, folks, even if I never see this person again, I feel something good happened today. Marilyne met a man who was able to chat with her as an equal, without drooling all over the place despite her striking appearance and her youthful exhuberance, and I met yet another person who wasn't intimidated by the fact that I'm a gender-variant soul (admittedly, it didn't show much today that this is, indeed, who and what I am but, still, she was curious and receptive, not offended or weirded out).
Be who you are. Others will feel more comfortable being who they are. It's actually no more complicated than that. It really isn't.
I'm off to my father's for a few days. I hope you all have a great weekend and I'll catch you some time next week.
Love,
CJ
One good thing is you can dress anyway you want here. My kids and everyone else who comes here know what to expect. If they have a problem with it they don't come. Simple! It's a very gender friendly home and I'm so lucky in that respect. There is only one thing to worry about. If my wife Mini and her girlfriends show up and we are all glammed up they will beat us up and throw us off the 3rd floor deck! Hey CJ. It's not that bad if you land on the shrubs! Trust me!:lol: