Oh Tranny...No?

This afternoon on the six I take notice of a youngish woman seated across from me. What catches my eye right away is her mustache. Dark and foreboding it crusts around her mouth in ways I have only seen on the most mountain of men. What takes it over the top is that she also has facial stubble- a full blown five o'clock shadow...only it is four o'clock (I got out early today due to the bank holiday). Everything else about her is feminine enough- dark skinny jeans and black ballet flats, the fall uniform of nearly every 24-year old girl here in the city.


Now unfortunately being half-Italian I know first hand of having to remove body hair that is a little...darker. I can also understand when old wrinkly ladies have some runaway stays on their face. But this woman has a very long way to go until her golden years. I try not to look but I really have never seen anything like this.


The thought crosses my mind that she is really actually a man...however after almost a year in this city my tran-dar is quite developed and accurate. Despite the facial hair, she is no guy. This is a different kind of being that I have not been able to classify yet. Not a man, not a woman, not a man trying to be a woman, not a woman trying to be a man...


hmmm