Transgendered Shovel
Transgendered shovel Current mood: bored
There is something about a transgendered male now name Amery shoveling snow with his long billowy curls blowing in the wind that makes me think I live in the the twilight zone. It does not help that Fiddler on the Roof music is blasting from his/her living room window he has thrown wide open, or that his girlfriend is prancing on the big porch in her silk robe smoking a cigarette with one of those long fancy cigarette holders singing along trying to recapture a moment in time when she was "it" on broadway. Its quite beautiful in a very movie like way.
One warm August night around midnight I heard drums, and looked out my window and saw the faint light of a cigarette on the porch and I pulled on my robe and walked across the street to see what was going on. An empty bottle of white wine sat on the table and they sat on the steps, drum between his legs thumping away, and she was singing away, oblivious to neighbors and the time. They felt the need to express themselved and they were. She has an amazing voice and is now an acting teacher at a very very expensive private school, he is a musician in a theater orchestra. He only works in the winter. I can understand now how creativity will come out in ways like they expressed that night. They had said, we just need to be singing now. Before I just thought they were odd.
I had a hard time believing he used to be a women, he is in fact a very muscular man with a gorgeous face and the most lucious curls I have ever seen on a man. But as you get to know him you notice when he is upset his voice gets very very high, and he asks all the neighbor men to help him lift the really heavy things a man would normally be able to lift. Then the clincher was this past summer he was lying on his front porch, he had been painting, and he was flat on his back, I ran over to make sure he was ok and had not fallen and I saw those two crescent moon shaped scars under his breasts. Funny thing, his name used to be Amy, they refer to the old him as "Amy with a skirt on". They have lived here a while and some of the neighbors knew Amy before he was Amery.
Ill never forget the day my husband asked him to take a ride to pick up a grill at home depot, this was before we knew he used to be a women. My husband was yapping and kidding around with him in the front yard and threw an arm around his shoulder and gave him a big slap on the back. The look on his face confused me it was a "Ooooof that hurt look" I guess its understandable now.
So I will sit and watch Amery shovel and Carolyn belt out a tune and smoke her cigarettes in her silk robe. It does my heart good to know they are pissing off the Granola Girl next door. (nother story)
APD©
There is something about a transgendered male now name Amery shoveling snow with his long billowy curls blowing in the wind that makes me think I live in the the twilight zone. It does not help that Fiddler on the Roof music is blasting from his/her living room window he has thrown wide open, or that his girlfriend is prancing on the big porch in her silk robe smoking a cigarette with one of those long fancy cigarette holders singing along trying to recapture a moment in time when she was "it" on broadway. Its quite beautiful in a very movie like way.
One warm August night around midnight I heard drums, and looked out my window and saw the faint light of a cigarette on the porch and I pulled on my robe and walked across the street to see what was going on. An empty bottle of white wine sat on the table and they sat on the steps, drum between his legs thumping away, and she was singing away, oblivious to neighbors and the time. They felt the need to express themselved and they were. She has an amazing voice and is now an acting teacher at a very very expensive private school, he is a musician in a theater orchestra. He only works in the winter. I can understand now how creativity will come out in ways like they expressed that night. They had said, we just need to be singing now. Before I just thought they were odd.
I had a hard time believing he used to be a women, he is in fact a very muscular man with a gorgeous face and the most lucious curls I have ever seen on a man. But as you get to know him you notice when he is upset his voice gets very very high, and he asks all the neighbor men to help him lift the really heavy things a man would normally be able to lift. Then the clincher was this past summer he was lying on his front porch, he had been painting, and he was flat on his back, I ran over to make sure he was ok and had not fallen and I saw those two crescent moon shaped scars under his breasts. Funny thing, his name used to be Amy, they refer to the old him as "Amy with a skirt on". They have lived here a while and some of the neighbors knew Amy before he was Amery.
Ill never forget the day my husband asked him to take a ride to pick up a grill at home depot, this was before we knew he used to be a women. My husband was yapping and kidding around with him in the front yard and threw an arm around his shoulder and gave him a big slap on the back. The look on his face confused me it was a "Ooooof that hurt look" I guess its understandable now.
So I will sit and watch Amery shovel and Carolyn belt out a tune and smoke her cigarettes in her silk robe. It does my heart good to know they are pissing off the Granola Girl next door. (nother story)
APD©
posted by A Farce called Life at 1:24 PM
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