What a weekend! Drama with a capital D.
Let me explain:
Friday night I had my date with my tranny man. We went to see “Sex and the City” - and I have to admit Josh (that’s his/her name) looked pretty damn hot waiting out front with his shaved head and tattoos. I swear, I couldn’t tell one iota he was packing a pussy in his panties.
After the movie, Josh walked me home. As we approached my block in the East Village, we discovered a movie being filmed with Julianne Moore – only in Manhattan do you stumble upon a movie star while on a date with a tranny.
At my door, Josh grabbed and kissed me.
At first, I liked his aggressiveness, and I have to admit the kiss was nice. Unfortunately, my smutty instincts took over and I started to run my hand southward to sample the merch.
That’s when it hit me.
Stop – don’t go there my brain screamed.
I guess it was the testosterone injections, because the more I said no, the more aggressive he became. I mean, I was like a school girl swatting his hands away as he groped me on the street. I wanted to yell Jessica Tandy's famous line from Fried Green Tomatoes – “Honey, just how many of those hormones are you taking?”
I mean, I’ve performed just about every perverted sexual act known to mankind on east 12th street, but I wasn’t about to add tranny rape to the list.
As I pushed him away, he asked me what was wrong. I told him I just couldn’t get past the pussy thing. He said that shouldn’t matter if two people find each other attractive. Maybe there is some truth there, but I’m just not that enlightened. I guess I’m old fashioned – I like a man with a penis.
I went upstairs alone.
The next day I received a text message informing me that I was very small minded.