He was shy to be himself. Until he broke his wrist and then it all came together.
There were woman's heels all over the floor, skirts, make up, everything I'd imagine a woman having in their bedroom. Not like this as if a bomb had gone off, I exaggerated because I am a guy who wants to be a woman, but you get the what I mean. I'd usually start off the day naked and look in the mirror. I'd slide my low cut ladies shorts on, followed by the bra. Soon enough the heels and shirt was on. The make up was next and then finally the wig. I loved this wig, the hair reached past my shoulders, blonde, the light colour showed off my face I found rather than a darker colour. I think I looked good, as a guy I wasn't bad looking either. I had a sharp jaw line I was grateful of, I could have been a stud if I didn't want to be a woman. This reflection was also a curse a religious fanatic cold argue, because my dream ended in that bedroom and the next routine was to take all the clothes and make up off and be a guy again.
"Groundhog Day" was a movie which played on my mind from time to time, as well as that track "A Well Respected Man" by "The Kinks". Right now I was walking up the same road to do the same Thursday evening shopping. The same routine, week in week out. I got to Sainsbury's, that was getting annoying, even just the colour, that fucking orange. However I found Tesco's had shit food, a Waitrose was non existent in this part of South London. I did love Mark and Spencers, but the only one wasn't for miles. I don't know why I did my food shopping on a Thursday evening, I think I will change it, hm!
Some nosy old stuck up bag keeps looking at me. It is so irritating. I feel like saying "yes, my trolley is full with tights, nail vanish, tampons, woman's shavers and Special K in amongst my low calorie foods. And what?" I've seen her three times on three separate isles and every time she peers into my basket and then at me, using her woman's intuition knowing those stuff is for me. She looked weird; she had eyes that were too far a part and wore glasses I hoped were fake to just cover up her childhood torment of being called hammer head. That should teach her if the truth came out. And she held onto what looked to be her husbands arm too tightly, like showing off that she was all happily and in love. Maybe I am being cynical because I am single and would like somebody, but you know what I am on about. The husband looked like the old rich guy that had done well; still married in marriage number one, got the grandchildren, goes on his cruises and still in an active sex life. Fair play to him.
Still, it did get samey sometimes, it would be nice if something I'm not sure what was to happen. Maybe meet a guy, but I didn't know where to start, I couldn't even come out as wanting to be a woman, let alone find another guy who was into the same stuff. Huff huff! However it was warm tonight, this part of South London thankfully wasn't rough, the evening set a cozy warm navy blue in the air. I was looking forward to cooking fish tonight. I had two bags of shopping in each hand, that orange was depressing me though. I got to the lights and waited. There wasn't any cars but I waited anyway, which I never did. There was still nothing so I crossed the road.
However, if you've ever had that feeling of someone among you, when something is with you, lurking. That was happening to me right now. I never get into trouble or attract it so I put this night down to bad luck - a low life thug tried to snatch my shopping, but I wouldn't let go. I was quite proud of that. But he kept tugging and I tugged back.
"No. Please just stop" I said.
He didn't. Then I reconsidered him being a thug when I saw his weak eyes, his chin tucked to his chest, his sloping back and shoulders trying to touch the ground. I found he was just a desperate guy who had no choice but to one day get brave. He wasn't giving up without a fight, I had to give him that, the jolt from his tugs you could feel carried his entire life. I should have been stronger and kicked myself for what happened next; he tugged with both hands in a kind of Buzz Lightyear reach for the sky motion and immediately my wrist snapped. I heard the bone break, so did the brave weak guy, but he went Scot free with all four bags, result he thought probably. I held my wrist, it killed and I howled for a while. That is the last time I double bag! If I single bagged then they wouldn't have given much resistance. Luckily a couple of early twenties young people arrived and had called an ambulance, saying they had seen what happened. I felt like saying "Why the fuck didn't you help then?".
Atmospheres in hospitals are so bleak, I don't like them. The people in the beds around me all ill and maser-crated, then I was there with the big white cast on my arm. The operation happened earlier today and luckily I was leaving tomorrow. I felt out of place there like I was looking for sympathy with a little broken wrist, other people were dying, the overweight lady next to me was suffering from a life threatening illness, she couldn't walk, I felt bad for her. Then a nurse took my whole attention, she walked in with killer legs that seemed to stretch for ages. Her body was so in proportion, almost too perfect, like a lesbian that was too fit to be straight. And then the nurse looked at me and her whole being went straight through my body - she was a man.
"How are you George?" She said. George was my name.
"Good thanks" I replied.
I couldn't believe it, there was another one like me in the world. Her hands were really pretty, they were slim and delicate like a woman's, red nail vanish perfectly painted without a mess. Her name was Colette, that is what the name tag said. She placed the dinner on the trey with care and put it on my lap. I fancied her straight away. It was funny because I sensed a vibe coming from her too, the smile on her face couldn't hide itself, her seek for eye contact was present on a number of occasions. I thought to myself she could be a trans who was still into straight guys. It turned out she had been single ever since she had come out four years prior, so singletoness was over taking her soul like a demon at constant work and the slightest bit of attention wouldn't have taken much. Then I noticed my nails and varnish was still on them, also red, fuck I must have not removed them, I completely forgot. Colette saw this as she resumed a full standing position and she walked away, the tight lipped smile unable to be swayed.
TV dinner had been the same routine for too long. I felt like I was turning into one of those people who would eventually live with animals. The dinner was from Mark and Spencers, I changed the shopping routine the other week. Plus it was a home cooked meal, I was pleased with my discipline to make my own dinners and not become ones of those people who buy ready cooked meals. I was alone, so I wasn't going to make it worse by fucking up my organs too. Tonight it was a chicken casserole, the garlic was jumping onto my taste buds and the celery was a charming crunch in amongst the veg.
Mostly I was thinking of Colette, she was on my mind ever since I left the hospital. I wanted the courage to ask her out if I was ever to see her again. She inspired me, the way she was a woman in the real world, where I hadn't got the confidence to do that yet. My arm was healing and I was due to go back to the hospital to get the cast removed tomorrow. Warm thoughts filled my mind as to hopefully seeing her again, that would be amazing.
I sat on the hospital bed and waited for a nurse to arrive. I couldn't believe it, it was Colette! She walked to me with her medical equipment and trolley. Her tall slim frame chiseled underneath her nurses outfit, the smile had progressed to showing teeth.
"How is your arm George?" Colette said.
"Better" I replied.
"It would have healed"
Then she started to cut the cast off with really big scissors. Every snip I couldn't help to feel nervous, it was all too clear this was the nerves of liking someone. The attention in her eyes to the snipping was focused, but a part of her mind was somewhere else. When the cast came off I wiggled my wrist and it was just like new, and brand new arm.
"Feels normal again, it feels great" I said.
"A success" Colette replied.
"That is what we are here for"
Then the eye contact connected. I really wanted something to happen and knew she did too. Then she removed a piece of paper and gave it to me. It had her number on it. I thought that was cute, she was thoughtful.
I sat in the bar waiting. "No messing about" I kept going over and over in my head, it was do or die tonight. I was a woman in the world for the very first time and I felt good. I was also petrified underneath I won't lie, guys playing pool and around the bar I felt them - that sense of something haunting over your shoulder like the guy who mugged me for my shopping. All it takes is the slightest set of eyeballs to peer unwelcomingly at you, which then turns to two sets, then three. Soon enough you've got the entire world cup watching you at penalties. I was ready to leave. My now healthy wrist was getting agitated and that hand clutched my bag a little tighter. My drink was nearly finished.
Maybe Colette wasn't going to show. It must have been twenty minutes since we agreed to meet at eight. All the doubts were creeping in. Plus I hadn't come out to her that I was a trans too, I was going to surprise her tonight, see how she took it. Ah fuck maybe that was a mistake, maybe she wont take it well at all, I'm going to leave. But right then Colette arrived by the door in high black boots which covered her skinny jeans. She had a black leather jacket on too and her hair was done in curls, I was impressed how she managed to do that. She waved at me and walked into the bar, I stood up.
"Sorry I am late" She said.
"That's OK" I replied.
I was so nervous I couldn't say anything else. I just wanted the know what the reaction was going to be like when Colette saw me for who I really am. Was she going to stay or was she going to run? But the look on her face seemed like fireworks were going off inside her eyes. Seriously it seemed like me being a trans woman was the greatest thing she could have expected. She looked hot in her rocker side this night, a pleasant transformation from hard days at the hospital.
"I am very proud of you" She said in her polite females voice.
"Thanks. You too" I replied in my ladies tone I felt comfortable with.