New England Mädchen (teil zwei)

On the walk to Denny's from the car we had to walk through a small gaggle of working class men waiting for a bus to what I surmised were graveyard shifts, sweating at some kind of back-breaking task for a paltry salary. As we passed, the first, older guy said a polite "hello ladies" but then a second, younger smart-alec chimed in with "hey fellas." I let it go but I could tell Toni wanted to say something. Beyond the fact that the guy was about 6'2" and Toni is somewhere in the vicinity of a foot smaller and a hundred pounds lighter, peace and forgiveness won the day temporarily and we passed by without further incident. Safely inside (if being inside a ghetto neighborhood Denny's at 3 am can ever be considered safe), we ensconced ourselves in a corner booth, Angela sober, me buzzing, and Toni slightly more so.

We could tell Toni had a good buzz going because she started talking about ordering meat. Normally, she holds to a loose but logical land creature vegetarian philosophy. And being in Denny's, even I, an avowed meat and potatoes affectionado, was hesitant to get anything along charred animal flesh lines. But Toni waved off our suggested veggie alternatives and instead ordered a chicken-fried steak breakfast platter! I settled for a ham and eggs plate myself and Angela got something similar. About a fucking hour later(!) and several apologies from our server, we got our (lousy, tepidly warm) food. I think at that point, after several heated discussions about eating habits and the economic factors contributing to Denny demographics, we lost most of our appetites and did not eat much. This was probably a good thing, although Angela felt bad for a lot of the next day. Somewhere in there a black kid sidled slyly into the booth next to ours to check us out and left snickering a second later once he confirmed our "freak" status with a closer look at my fuzz-encrusted, sweat-grimed puss.
I helped beat his retreat with a hearty "fuck you" middle finger.

I also ventured to the ladies room as we were leaving. A squat, fat female security guard followed me into the bathroom and I can only surmise was making sure I wasn't some kind of pervert or something. Bitch! On the way out, the male security counterpart (like fucking Denny's needs TWO security guards?!!!) warned me not to go in there again, which I met with a shrug and a "whatever." I also managed to catch the security guards' eyes as we were heading out the door and showed them the backside of my two upturned middle fingers. Like I would ever step foot in that place or for that matter, any other Denny's again...

The next day we all rose from slumber around the crack of noon and basically bummed around a couple hours until we managed to get in gear and set off my my family's cabin on the Great Sacandaga Resevoir. Sacandaga is a huge, man-made lake that is used to regulate the Hudson river; to keep salt water from the ocean from coming up it. Anyways, we headed up there to check it out. We started on a short bushwhack/hike on the logging trails behind our cabin, but Toni only had sandals so we turned back about halfway - we were all breathing heavy by that point anyway! My parents were up at the camp doing some renovations and they invited us to stay for dinner, which we did, Angela and I enjoying a couple beers while Toni indulged in one of my dad's extra dry martinis. The dinner, as it always is when my folks cook, was excellent. It consisted of a buffet-style "asian-wrap" setup. Using several leaves of bib lettuce, we created wraps with various asian foodstuff (noodles, peanuts, chicken, etc.). I thought it was very creative, especially since my mom never makes ethnic foods. I guess my complaining about that finally sank in!

I think it was also helpful to my parents to talk and interact with another transsexual. Toni looks and acts naturally femme (bitch :-) and I think (hope) that gave them a little reassurance that once I start living 24/7 that I will also be able to lead a somewhat normal life. But they are still struggling with it all, evidenced by my mom's suggestion to use a "transition - transition name" when referring to me that sounds more like my boy name. I pooh-poohed that immediately tho. They still call me by my boy name unfortunately, but I know they'll come around in their own time. I will be very happy indeed the first time they instinctively refer to me as "Dana!"

After dinner, wine and some good conversation, we departed back to my homestead. We then decided to stop in at my club (Club 22) in the bustling metropolis of Glens Falls to see what was happening. That morning I had given up hope of going anywhere in girl mode until the stubbornly clinging lasered hairs started falling out, so this night was to be my first time EVER showing up at the club in non-femme mode. I opted for a simple white T, jeans and some light eye makeup - looking a little like a very, very butch lesbian and sort of androgynous. Angela also wore jeans and a top, but she was in girl mode. Going out in boy mode wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. It took a while for people at the club to recognize me and I had a bit of fun going up to them and seeing their reactions. The bad part was that the club was absolutely dead; even deader than normal! Arggghhh - it only happens when I have guests!

The topper was that Jim, one of the DJs, had burned me a copy of a great techno version of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" that night. But then, only minutes after getting the CD and placing down in our booth at the back of the club, the CD disappeared! The only people that I saw go near the stuff were two regular transsexuals who I thought were my friends. I guess I always felt they had some kind of jealousy or resentment of me because I have a more natural look and get more attention from the guys. But I didn't think they would stoop to this crap! I hope I'm wrong, but won't worry about it. Right after the CD went missing, so did the girls, which made me even more suspicious. Well, we danced briefly and then, bored, went looking for another bar (and looking for the bitches that may have stolen my cd!). I had heard about a lez bar down ther street that I had never been to, but it was fucking closed. Needless to say, all the places nearby were either dead or way too hick even for me! So we settled instead on the pizza shop next door, where a local, older ts happens to work. She is a nice girl - I had only met her the weekend before - but she basically glommed onto Toni when I introduced them, giving her her cell number and asking for Toni's in return. Needless to say, I think Toni gave her a fake one...

When we got home, Toni and Angela started in on my Absolute, while I stubbornly stuck to my steady light beer consumption. In about a half an hour, Angela, who only weighs about 125 lbs by the way, was passed out on the floor! Toni weighs about the same but she has a bit more tolerance than Angela, not to mention that when they were swigging from the bottle, she was only taking little sips while Angela was guzzling. After Toni helped Angela toss her cookies (and she didn't spill a crumb either) and get into bed, Toni and I stayed up for a while longer talking about various girly issues - love, boys, transition schedules, etc. It was really energizing to talk candidly and share experiences (and do so in person) with someone who is in the same general place as me transition-wise and has the same sort of basic philosophy and outlook on life. We are different in a lot of other ways, but I think (and hope she feels the same way) that we became friends that night. so endeth parte deux...(part thrice is the last of this series, I promise :-)