Work slacked off around noon, so I decided to go ahead and get myself the Christmas present I decided on. I wanted a new hairstyle and color. My hair is now more in line with my natural color, though not quite as gray as I am naturally. No, no pictures yet. I’m just too worn out out to take a decent photo. (Believe me, I tried.) I think I like the new look, but it’s taking some getting used to.
After my hair was done, I dropped by the TG Center for a little girl talk. I hung out there a little longer than I should have, but I had a good time. The women at the center all were very complimentary towards my choice of new hairstyle. We talked about memories, plans, all the usual stuff women talk about this time of year. It was good.
As I was leaving, one of the ladies mentioned she wanted to go find a nearby restaurant that was hiring. She’s studying the culinary arts, and could really use a part time job. Well, it was only a few blocks, and she would have been walking in the cold, so I offered to drive her over there.
I looked up the location on my phone, and got driving directions from Google. I am not that good at following Google’s directions. I messed up, and got turned around, and must have u-turned two or three times. As it turns out, one of Houston’s finest was apparently watching me, and my behavior was suspicious. Yes, that’s right. I got pulled over, in full femme. Sooner or later, it’s going to happen to every one of us I suppose. I hate to admit it, though, but I was terrified. I don’t look much like my driver’s license anymore, and it still says I am male, with my birth name.
According to the officer, besides making several quick turns (I was confused by that part of town), I also didn’t use my turn signals. I don’t know why he really pulled me over, but it’s a good thing my friend was there with me, because I was terrified. Handing that driver’s license to that macho cop, with me in full femme? Goddess, if I had been alone, I think I would have come apart at the seams. See, I pass pretty well, if I don’t have to show ID or hand someone a credit card with my male name on it. But you can’t not present ID when a police officer pulls you over.
The good news is that after questioning us about where we came from, and where we were going, and running both our licenses for warrants or whatever, the officer let me go with a stern warning about using my turn signals in the future. By this time, I was literally shaking like a leaf, at least on the inside. If I looked even half as nervous on the outside as I felt, it’s a wonder he didn’t take me into custody right there. I must admit though, I have had more than one encounter with law enforcement over minor traffic issues, and have only ever gotten one ticket for speeding, and one for an accident (that wasn’t really my fault). I seem to have a way with cops. They just trust me.
Well, we found the restaurant, saw a sign that said “Help Wanted. Applications taken 9 am – 11 am.” Since it was already after 4pm, I drove my friend back to the center. She and I hung out there for a little while longer, while I got my nerves under control better. She told me about something called a “Transgender Carry Letter“, and encouraged me to get one from my therapist. She even gave me a copy of hers for example purposes.
I will ask my therapist about this topic tomorrow at my appointment. I spoke to my therapist this evening, and he’ll draw up a letter for me as soon as possible.
The very idea of being detained because I don’t match the ID I present is terrifying. What’s even worse, is the possibility that I might be locked up with the men in city jail while I wait for bail, even though I am wearing skirt, stockings, etc. If you haven’t experienced that kind of fear, you can’t imagine it. I know, for the first time really, being afraid of a man who had power over my very life. I know, welcome to the sisterhood. Forced outing was not really on my agenda when I planned my day this morning.
After I left the center, carefully using my turn signals at every opportunity, I went on home, and settled in for the evening. I watched a little TV, had dinner, took out the trash, and then started to do my dishes. Have I mentioned that I have fine motor control issues? Can you guess where this is going? Yes, I dropped a coffee mug, and I caught it before it hit the floor.
Unfortunately, it had already hit the counter on the way down, and snapped the handle right off. That in itself would be sufficiently upsetting after the day I had. But it didn’t stop there. The jagged edge of the mug where the handle should have been sliced open the tip of my right ring finger. Nice, straight, deep cut. You would think I had cut myself with a box cutter. For a moment, I wasn’t sure it had cut me.
Then the blood started to flow. Lots of blood for such a small cut. It’s only maybe half an inch long, but it bled like a much worse wound. I bandaged it as best I could, with what I had in the house. It’s sore, and interfering with typing, but I will live.
I almost want to just crawl into bed, and call this day over. And it started out so well too. It’s definitely one for the memories. But I can’t yet, as I still have one more duty to take care of so I can get paid this week. I think I will get on that, and then see if I still feel like crawling into the bed.
Good night all.