I've just come back from the 40th birthday party of a big pal of mine and Mrs Pither's. A good time was had by all and much was the delight, curry and live band music indulged in by all.
Pither, being Pither, however, had to come away from the thrash with at least one blot on his otherwise pristine memory card. A large smudge on that particular piece of data was indelibly laid down when he met "Sarah" for the first time since she ceased to be "John".
John, as I last knew him, is/was a top hole chap. A really nice guy, with a brain the size of a planet and a sense of humour to match. He has, however, had "issues" over the last few years and, after a spell dipping into the world of homosexuality and not finding it to his taste, he decided he was, and should always have been, a woman.
John is one of those poor, male transsexuals to whom the slide onto the "other bus" has not and will never come easy. You see, John, or Sarah as he now is, is about 6ft 2ins tall. As I saw him tonight, in a figure-hugging, tight, knee-length red dress, he stood out like a spare prick at a virgin's wedding.
Sarah is, as I subsequently discovered, happy with the way she is for the first time in many, many years and, thanks to the help and support of some great friends, is enjoying life. That is ALL that matters and for that, I am thankful and happy for her.
The trouble is, during her journey from man to woman she has to meet idiots like Pither along the way. I had been plucking up courage to greet the new Sarah all night and eventually went over as she was not at all sure how I would react and so found it awkward to approach me. Put yourself in my position. You had last seen "Sarah" as a hairy-arsed bloke called "John". What are your first words? I chose the spectacular....................................."So, what have you been up to lately?"!!!!!!!!!!!
She looked down at her prosthetic tits, the long red dress and her high heels and said, not surprisingly, "You mean apart from this!!!!"
I am a female genital part, I admit it. What a stupid thing to bloody say.
As I have mentioned on this blog before, Douglas Adams termed the phenomena a Wiganism - an entirely inappropriate word or phrase you are subconsciously forced to utter to moment you meet someone who displays something different from the norm (e.g. You will inevitably say to a one-legged man "He hadn't got a leg to stand on." etc.) I challenge anyone to come up with anything other than what I said to Sarah. Suggestions are welcome..............anything which can stop me sending myself to Grantham!!!
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7 comments:
"So...how is every little thing?"
"Hello, me old mucker - how's it hanging?"
BGT
Sort of around the same area,
on pointing out to a sort of friend that the 6 foot 4 raven headed beauty in the pub was packing a number of things including an Adams apple and expecting a senseless expression of violence, which he was very good at,
He merely said, I don't care its lovely.
do you know what, in my experience men rarely know what to say to a woman anyhow, so it's just as well that Sarah is getting the normal treatment
Hello ILTV,
Do you come here often?
Having known Jon in my youth, and not seen him since the transformation, I can only imagine he looks a bit like the Peter Cook sketch when he's dressed as Greta Garbo. You perhaps could have said: "Reg Pither; at your service, ma'am." The response might have been illuminating.
American Fez,
Firstly, welcome to this pathetic griefhole.
Secondly, I don't think that would have been a much better line. What with him being inordinately tall and me not being so, it could have sounded like "Reg Pither at your cervix". Then again, I'm not sure if he's had that bit done yet.
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