Saturday, September 17, 2016

Two stories of trans*women I know from clubbing.

The other week I was getting pretty blitzed on a weeknight at one of the only 4am bars downtown, and this (part Moroccan) IT worker drunkenly confessed to me that he's interested in trans*women.

"There's this club...", he was like.

"[Name of club]?", I was like, mentioning the name of the late night club I sometimes go to.

"Yeah, that's it!", he was like, and he then told me that a couple times he's hooked up with a couple trans*women from there.

"There's this one really pretty one who's kind of nice...", he was like.

"You mean [Female first name]?", I was like.

"Yeah, that's her!", he was like, and he then explained that unlike other trans*women there, she didn't try to sell herself as soon as you started talking to her, and she came back to his apartment downtown to socialize, though after her talking about wanting "to party" and him not giving her any cocaine, she left.

"We didn't hook up or anything," he was like, and then he said that he also didn't hook up with the one other trans*women he had brought back from the club one time, the only other one who was kind of nice.

You mean [Female first name]?", I was like.  "The one who's always packed into a short dress and has big hair and a lot of makeup?".

"Yeah!", he was like.  "I took her home and we made out for a while, but I had to stop, the smell was so bad."

Then, he was like, "I don't get it, you spend all that time on your hair and makeup, and you forget to wash?".

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