An inordinate number of transvestites
There's a remarkable number of transvestites in my life right now. The retarded maintenance man in the apartment beneath me is dating - perhaps living with? - a transvestite hooker.
Wait.
Something phenomenal just occured to me.
I've never seen her.
I mean, I've seen him pay a transvestite hooker before, and I've heard one or two calling his name from the front gate, though they didn't have this voice....
I hear her "voice" all the time. She sounds like Miss Piggy. It's high-pitched, iritating and seems to ring with the "coo" of one who is in love. I see HIM - maintenance man - all the time. I see him coming and going and standing outside. I see the crack dealers that visit and those that sneak in and I see them high and stumbling out. I see him and his only older white buddy (the other visitors are all 19 year-old thugs, while these two men are probably in their 60's). I see maintenance man twice a day. But I see HER - the tranny whose voice I hear almost daily - never.
How is that possible?
Maybe it's his alter ego! Maybe he has another personality - or the ultimate imaginary girlfriend - that loses his incoherent stutter and lisp and speaks in an awfully faked, high-pitched she/he tone!
But they both giggle a lot. And moan. Yes, I've heard them moan. And that would take a LOT of talent to make two different personalities giggle and moan virtually simultaneously.
So maybe she doesn't leave the house. Ever. Weird.
Tranny number two is Red's new Flop. When Red said "You like the new Flop?" I jumped to all sorts of conclusions as to what that meant.
"Eeww! You're sleeping with her!?"
"Noo!" he screeched in horror.
"Is Jason sleeping with her?"
"No. She's a Flop. Yet another person in need of an emergency crash pad who is thus Flopping on my couch."
"Oooh. I got it. So she's staying awhile, eh?"
Her name is Tara. Those who know her find it offensive to use a word as classy as transvestite in conjunction with her name. "She's a dirty, dirty man with waay too much facial hair wearing combat boots and a dress" as one friend put it.
She smells like a wet dog. I'm not quite sure how a human being can manage this feat, but it is trully the case.
We are all hoping Tara gets her twiggy ass out of the building quite soon. She's been "crashing" with Red for about a full week now.
The other FOP in the building is Red's friend, Jason. As if there weren't enough Jason's milling about my life. Jason is from Lexington. He's a sex addict. Two weeks ago he found out he was HIV positive, had to put his cancerous dog to sleep, broke up with his boyfriend, packed his bags and moved in with Red. Jason looks white trash (wife beater, cowboy hat and a moustache) but decorates goth and practices devout Wiccan. He has a creepy energy that I just can't approve of.
I used to keep my doors unlocked.
I used to love the safety, comfort, and positive energy of my building. (This was in the days when the Pimp lived two floors down.) Now I feel little violated.
The worst is that I just caused my friend Steph to move in. I mean, I told her to look at the place and before I could even tell her about the Maintenance Man and his make believe girlfriend, Steph moved in.
And then the FLOPS came and entered Red's life. And mine.
And about two months ago, the only guy that I happen to sleep with once in a great while, moved in next door with his depressedly sick and co-dependent girlfriend.
And now my bike was stolen.
I might need to move soon.
Wait.
Something phenomenal just occured to me.
I've never seen her.
I mean, I've seen him pay a transvestite hooker before, and I've heard one or two calling his name from the front gate, though they didn't have this voice....
I hear her "voice" all the time. She sounds like Miss Piggy. It's high-pitched, iritating and seems to ring with the "coo" of one who is in love. I see HIM - maintenance man - all the time. I see him coming and going and standing outside. I see the crack dealers that visit and those that sneak in and I see them high and stumbling out. I see him and his only older white buddy (the other visitors are all 19 year-old thugs, while these two men are probably in their 60's). I see maintenance man twice a day. But I see HER - the tranny whose voice I hear almost daily - never.
How is that possible?
Maybe it's his alter ego! Maybe he has another personality - or the ultimate imaginary girlfriend - that loses his incoherent stutter and lisp and speaks in an awfully faked, high-pitched she/he tone!
But they both giggle a lot. And moan. Yes, I've heard them moan. And that would take a LOT of talent to make two different personalities giggle and moan virtually simultaneously.
So maybe she doesn't leave the house. Ever. Weird.
Tranny number two is Red's new Flop. When Red said "You like the new Flop?" I jumped to all sorts of conclusions as to what that meant.
"Eeww! You're sleeping with her!?"
"Noo!" he screeched in horror.
"Is Jason sleeping with her?"
"No. She's a Flop. Yet another person in need of an emergency crash pad who is thus Flopping on my couch."
"Oooh. I got it. So she's staying awhile, eh?"
Her name is Tara. Those who know her find it offensive to use a word as classy as transvestite in conjunction with her name. "She's a dirty, dirty man with waay too much facial hair wearing combat boots and a dress" as one friend put it.
She smells like a wet dog. I'm not quite sure how a human being can manage this feat, but it is trully the case.
We are all hoping Tara gets her twiggy ass out of the building quite soon. She's been "crashing" with Red for about a full week now.
The other FOP in the building is Red's friend, Jason. As if there weren't enough Jason's milling about my life. Jason is from Lexington. He's a sex addict. Two weeks ago he found out he was HIV positive, had to put his cancerous dog to sleep, broke up with his boyfriend, packed his bags and moved in with Red. Jason looks white trash (wife beater, cowboy hat and a moustache) but decorates goth and practices devout Wiccan. He has a creepy energy that I just can't approve of.
I used to keep my doors unlocked.
I used to love the safety, comfort, and positive energy of my building. (This was in the days when the Pimp lived two floors down.) Now I feel little violated.
The worst is that I just caused my friend Steph to move in. I mean, I told her to look at the place and before I could even tell her about the Maintenance Man and his make believe girlfriend, Steph moved in.
And then the FLOPS came and entered Red's life. And mine.
And about two months ago, the only guy that I happen to sleep with once in a great while, moved in next door with his depressedly sick and co-dependent girlfriend.
And now my bike was stolen.
I might need to move soon.
posted by Lindsay at 9:34 PM
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