A dark tale from the mens room
For those of you who try to stay topical with our fine nation’s events, you are likely well aware of an issue with public bathrooms and transgendered people. At least, that’s what seems to be what people who watch Fox News have told me.
I don’t watch the news. It’s not because I’m a willfully ignorant troglodyte. I moved out of my mom’s house and never bothered to get DirectTV , Dish Network, or cable. I never understood the idea of paying someone money every month so I could watch television commercials. I don’t know if that makes me an intellectual maverick, or a paranoid moron. I just know that I’d rather spend my money and time not doing that.
I have Netflix and Hulu. I rarely watch Hulu. My wife digs Saturday Night Live and Late Nite with Jimmy Fallon. And I sort of watch it over my shoulder. I’m usually playing a video game when she has her tv time. There’s your intellectual maverick for ya.
So as far as moral panics go, I don’t usually get caught up in the fervor. I’m not afraid of the knock-out game, or a black kid with a bag of Skittles wearing a hoodie. I generally don’t kill people for loud music.
But my trans roommate knows about the issues facing the LGBT community very intimately. And by that extension, I have a raised consciousness. I am a proud ally for LGBT causes.
Years ago my roommate, whom I’ll refer to as Amy was not out. At the time she was living as a male. And had told us that she was a cross dresser (a tale worthy of it’s own blog entry). This meant that she kept her face clean-shaven and wore women’s apparel and had a few beautiful wigs.
Amy was married and I thought Amy’s wife was a vacuous sociopath. Boy was I right. Anyhow, we would go to dinner as couples do. And also as couples do, we all hit the bathroom simultaneously. Imagine if women didn’t go in groups. It would be like waiting in line at the DMV. Go in groups, ignore the stand-up comedian. Just laugh and admit, “It’s funny because it’s true!”
Now at the time I didn’t know Amy (then going under her birth name which doesn’t matter so fuck off nosey Nancy! Her name is Amy) was not happy being male/masculine. She wanted to be a woman with different genitals. She also wanted to be in an intimate relationship with a man. She wanted to be treated in all forms like a heterosexual woman.
So we both walk up to our respective urinals. And sitting atop of my urinal was a half-consumed cup of coffee. My male/masculine mind was thinking about things I could do with that cup. I look at Amy and I smile. I’m going to warm up their coffee. Amy shakes her head.
“No.” She turned away, walked to the sinks and washed her hands. But I was in an impish mood. I was so amused with myself. At the moment that I type this blog I’m smiling. It’s not smug. It’s the smile of a man with pride. The smile an architect has when his bridge is unveiled. The ribbon is cut. Crowds clapping. Years of planning coming to fruition. Life making sense. That’s my grin.
But with that story aside, I want to just say that I’m okay. My life is good. Using the bathroom with a trans-girl hasn’t harmed me. In fact, I’m probably responsible for more psychological damage.
I’m not talking about the coffee drinker that hasn’t and won’t enter the story. That guy is fine. He either left the coffee out of laziness, or he came back, found it was “warmed” and took it out to his car where he poured it all over himself while he masturbated with his tie wrapped around the headrest. Tears and sweat mixing and diffusing with the caffeinated urine stench. The tailpipe of his car melting the ice. Defroster clearing his windshield. A cigarette as a quenching consolation prize. Mommy would be furious. This is why you don’t deserve to be loved.
As a man who can officially say I’ve urinated in a public bathroom with a trans person, everything was okay. I’m a bigger menace to our society than Amy.
I wanted to share something that hopefully contributes in some manner to people growing up. Your pee pee isn’t that exciting. No one cares. Get over it.