Monday, February 1, 2016

It happened again on our most recent trip...

"What's that?" you may ask.

For our most recent January conference journey, my attire was the usual 100% androgynous: denim leggings or stirrup pants, pantyhose or black tights, ballet flats, turtlenecks, with my mother's old necklace, and a women's cardigan.   Of course, I had a male jacket, as I haven't been able to procure a girly one.  Yet.  And the above was combined with my purse, long hair and nails.   No comments from my wife, except to insist that I wear my tights with a pair of stirrup pants for banquet night.  "That will look a lot more dressy."  I was happy with her comment...

When we picked up a rental car upon arrival in the Lone Star State (Texas, for those of you not from the USA), the lady from the agency who picked us up at the train, addressed my wife as "Ma'am." But she tactfully omitted any reference to my gender in conversation.  She did her job efficiently and was otherwise very friendly.

Being in the south, and with my gender quite ambiguous, I was prepared for lots of looks, and maybe confusion, or possibly comments from the local folks.   With two exceptions, it just plain didn't happen.  I didn't hear casual "Ma'am's" very often (mostly heard at restaurants), nor did I hear "Sir" very often - except at hotels, where my ID had to be produced.  There, even my "now female" given name didn't matter...they apparently focused on the little "M" on my ID.

The first "confusion exception" was when we stopped at a Subway, on a Sunday in a tiny cow town in central Texas.  A lot of locals were there after church, with their kids.  And, I definitely attracted attention from the young kids, whom I noticed were obviously "checking me out."  I'd love to hear the questions those parents were asked, once they got out of the restaurant.


Nice rail equipment...in Texas...couldn't resist a selfie.

Denison, TX Union Depot - majestic, and somewhat reminiscent of Chattanooga's "Choo Choo" depot, which was turned into a hotel.  Unfortunately, passenger trains don't stop at this station anymore (since about 1968) and the waiting room is rented out for events.

Gold Dome Building on old Route 66 in downtown Oklahoma City.  Reportedly the fifth largest geodesic dome in the world when built in the late 1960's, and the largest to be built as a bank.  It has been sold, and the new owner is in financial trouble.  The grim reaper is lurking "just around the corner," and it may be demolished in the near future.

The other exception was similar to some I've posted about recently.  We were returning the rental car and the elderly male driver who dropped us off at the train station was very talkative with info about the area.  Didn't think there was an issue, and I got into the front seat as it had more legroom.

But I guess I really derailed his "train of thought."   When we arrived at the station, he was removing our luggage from the trunk in front of the station.  At that point,  I thanked him for taking care of both of us.  And he replied "Oh, you're welcome Sir - ummmm, so sorry Ma'am - ummm, I guess I don't know if you're a man or woman."  I told him "If it's important to you, a man."  "Oh, ok, thanks, Sir.  Sorry for the confusion."  And he blushed.  I didn't.

My wife had been standing by the door with our luggage, so she didn't hear the exchange.  And as I approached with our last bags, she was starting inside...a male passenger was helping her carry our bags to a nearby bench in the waiting room.  The male passenger's friend took my bags from my hands, to help me get them inside.  We thanked each of them personally, and they all replied "you're welcome, ladies."  Apparently there was no confusion on their part...we were both female.

Go figure.

Cheers!

Mandy











4 comments:

  1. I suppose that by now your wife is used to seeing you as you. How you present to her is getting to be a bit old hat. For the civilian population at large the very first thing that they all seem to need to do is to confirm a person's gender.
    Day in and day out you straddle the line. Like I said your wife knows who you are but strangers have a need to put you into column A or B.
    That is not likely to change soon so you will just have to deal with people doing the best they can. I do not believe anyone would want to intentionally get it wrong.
    Pat

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    1. PS: Saturday I went for a mani/pedi. I had clear polish put on my finger nails but had a mocha enamel put on my toes. I came home wearing my flip flops. After two days I have had not had any comments from my wife about my fingers or toes. I surmise that she has noted that I have clear on my fingers and had a color put on my toes (once they dried I wore pantyhose for the rest of the weekend but the color could be observed through the hose) and she has either chosen to be silent (not very likely) or perhaps she has not noticed.
      Pat

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    2. Your observation that some of the folks who come in contact with the "androgynous me" apparently have a need to try to resolve the question "he or she" is correct. Most other folks seem to just assume "masculine female" or "crossdresser" and move on...or don't really care either way - they have their own issues to deal with and don't choose to meddle in mine.

      Since the feminine cues I exhibit daily aren't sufficient to help "the few" draw a definitive conclusion, their thought processes derail and they stumble around the issue of my gender in their minds. That leaves the bravest of them to actually come forward and ask me. They get an answer, whether or not it's the one they expected to hear!

      Since circumstances have lately been dictating a "not Mandy" presentation, and my wife tolerates my straddling that gender line much more than full female presentation (ain't that saying it mildly), it's my best way of expressing myself. And I don't foresee this situation changing very much over the next few months.

      I agree with you...so far at least, folks who ask me directly are not doing so maliciously, they just want help to resolve their perception of my gender. And I'm fine with that. Maybe it's a bit of education for them, or even some "outreach?"

      However, if I frequented places like biker bars, where intoxicated males displaying lots of testosterone-induced bravery are likely to be found, or spent lots of time out alone in the wee hours of the morning, my view about this response would undoubtedly be quite different.

      Fortunately, I don't. And never will.

      Mandy

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    3. Your mani/pedi sounds really pretty. I'm jealous...and due for both, but have been putting it off for a while due to trip expenses being so high.

      Fortunately, I have some of the manicurist's tools of the trade, namely the small grinder they use to prep nails for acrylic, and I know how to use it (I did my own nails for a while years ago, with supplies from the beauty supply house). So, I can doctor my fingers up enough to look OK for a little while longer.

      IMHO your wife noticed your nails, but chose to "pick her fights" and hasn't said anything. Yet. Particularly since the weather is generally cold and you won't likely wear sandals on any regular basis for a while. My guess (if my past nail situation holds for you) would be that if you started wearing sandals with toes painted, you'd get a comment. But nobody can see them under your socks...

      My wife has apparently given up commenting on my shiny finger nails...at least for now. Yay!

      Mandy

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