"Summer began to fade; nights were getting longer and cooler after the expected early October heat wave. I was dressing for a night at the Lodge at the shop. I was about five pounds from my weight loss goal, and looking very hot in a leather mini, fishnet stockings, boots and a matching corset. My lips were Chanel red, my eyes were feline, my nails were painted and the world had better look out for me. I sprayed on some Vera Wang.
"Oh, and that Bitch? I couldn’t wait to see her.
I stepped into the bar around ten-fifteen; I was early, according to Trans time. My bracelets were jangling and ear hoops were swinging as I walked up to the bar. The bartender smiled; 'Diet Coke or Sparkling water?' He knew me well, and I always tipped him accordingly. As the place filled up, I saw friends I had lost track of, got hit on by men, danced my little ass off, and looked not much the worse for wear; it was a great night.
"About half-past midnight, she was standing next to me at the bar. Her.
"She gave no indication she remembered me; I was twenty pounds lighter and a brunette, now. Her face was jowly, long and hopelessly masculine. She did have lovely blue eyes, but her eye makeup was a drippy, raccoony mess. Her skin was dark and rough from too much sun, and she had misshapen teeth, the poor thing.I heard the words 'the poor thing' in my head, and I knew I was indeed my mother’s daughter, albeit a six-foot-three one with an intact penis."
From "She Didn't Stutter: (c) Darya Teesewell 2014
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