An outing.

 

On my day off on Monday, Marlene and I visited Rottnest Island. Marlene let me drive to where the ferry takes one across to the island. It was a beautiful day with clear skies and not too hot. And it was great being with Marlene. I was really nervous driving her car but I’m not going to get confident and get experience unless I do. I have to keep a log for about 25 hours before I can move up the chain to getting my full licence and not having to have P plates. For now, I have to still have L plates. When this is complete, I still have to do the Hazard Perception Test which is on a computer. And for which I have to pay. Then I get my P’s – red for the first six months and green for the next 18 months.  I can’t drive at night with red P’s so no late outings. Very strict.

We had a pleasant day using the bus to get around the island. It was surprising to see the bowling greens coloured black. We also went on an underworld trip looking at some wrecks which weren’t really exciting. It was nice to be out and about, with not a care in the world.

On the way back we talked about what I was going to do once I had my P’s and could drive on my own. I also needed a car if I got into a training institute. My cousin’s house is not near a train line so I’d need a car to get to the station or drive to the institute. I still haven’t decided on which course to do but I’d better do it soon as this year is nearly over. I found an institute near me on the north side of town and tomorrow I am doing a test to find out my interests and strengths. It is costing me but I think it is worth it so I make a good choice at the beginning of my career. Then I will have to look at my timetable and talk to my boss about fitting in five shifts. Monday and Tuesday are my days off so they’re good for lectures. Not all my lectures will be in the morning though and that’s where a car will be handy if I have to hurry back to go to work.

In the meantime I’m going to enjoy my outings with Marlene even if I can’t hold hands as I drive.

Trials of Life.

 

For my next driving lesson, I thought I was smoother with my gear changes. Even my instructor commented favourably.

I’ve nearly completed my first 25 hours of driving and my test is two weeks away.

I’ve had trouble at work worrying about the test and not my customers. It’s a constant worry for me when I go into new situations and I don’t feel confident in passing as a man.

I had one customer who was allergic to everything on our menu. I was tempted to suggest ice-blocks like someone did on BreakRoomStories. She had lupus, she said, and was allergic to milk and wheat. She decided on black coffee and then brought out her sandwiches from her handbag. I looked at the boss and he said, not to worry, we have to cater for all tastes.

The wait people in the States have to rely on tips to be paid. In our café, I get a basic hourly rate and 5% of what I’ve served. It’s not much but heaps better than relying on tips as Aussies don’t do it unless they are at a restaurant and have a meal.

I’m meeting Marlene after work this evening and we’re going to the pictures, like a real date. I’ve brought a change of clothes plus a towel and toiletries as I don’t want to smell of food or coffee. I’m really excited and bounce around serving people. Of course, I told my boss so he didn’t go antsy on me for being so buoyant. It’s great to have Marlene in my life and I don’t know how I would have managed without her. Joe’s good but Marlene is special and I’m intimate with her. Being a dyke, she knows how to pleasure me – I don’t have to teach her what to do. And vice versa. It’s all wonderful and I want to move in with her but she says it’s too early. I know when I’m on a good thing but she hesitates because of my family. I ring them once a week on Skype and I pretend my webcam is down as I have a barbell through my eyebrow. I’m rebelling all over the place and that’s probably why Marlene wants me to grow up and settle down a bit. Such are the trials of life.

Reminiscing

Marlene showed up at my café on Friday. I could feel my cheeks burning as I turned around to greet her. My heart was hammering away and I couldn’t speak. Marlene took over and ordered a cappuccino.  I scribbled it down and went back to the counter to pass on the order.

My boss was the barista and asked me if I was alright.

‘Yeah,’ I muttered.

He looked across at Marlene and nodded his head.

Before she left, Marlene asked me over to her house to watch a recording she’d made.

Of course, I said ‘yes’ and had to agonise over her as I finished up for the day, reminiscing about our past together before I went to Melbourne.

Once all was packed up and the floors washed, I raced out the door and over to her place. By the time I arrived I was in a lather of sweat from work and running.

We acted like we didn’t really know each other and neither of us made the first move.

‘Sit down here, Michael. Some of this is your story and I’d like to watch it with you.’

‘Okay.’ I had an idea of the show she wanted me to watch as I’d seen it on SBS last Tuesday with my cousin. He is so cool about my transition and jokes about seeing more hair on my chin. I wish.

Marlene sat on the floor at my feet and operated the controls. When there was something she needed clarifying, she’d hit the pause button.

As the show went on, it was clear to me that Marlene wanted to know about my journey and whether I had wanted to be a boy when I was younger.

‘You bet. I was the best footballer in the street and did all the things boys do, even playing with marbles.’

‘Do you mind if I sit next to you?’ Marlene asked.

‘Sure.’

So we talked into the small hours of the morning, after I had woken my cousin, Joe, to say I would be home late.

‘Ah, the lovely Marlene,’ he said.

I didn’t stay the night but we promised we would walk by the river and have a cappuccino together the next day. This could be a new start but I don’t want to be hurt. My body tingles when she looks at me and we did a lot of gazing into each other’s eyes last night. The reminiscing was all good.

 

 

Getting to know you

 

I rang my cousin Joe to say I wouldn’t be home for tea. I then asked Marlene if we could go to her place as I couldn’t afford dinner having just started my job and wanting to save up for my mastectomy. She was quite happy to shout me dinner but I wouldn’t let her. That would mean we were on a date and we’d only just met. Anyway, I would feel more comfortable talking in private away from prying ears as my story was pretty unusual.

So we caught a bus to her place which wasn’t far from Joe’s and I could walk home if the buses had finished for the day. Marlene rented a tiny flat in the complex of eight flats with a courtyard down the middle. She led the way while I gawked at all the different window displays.

            ‘We have some interesting tenants with whom you might relate. But I won’t land them on you tonight.’

            ‘Thanks,’ I said.

Inside, I walked straight into her lounge which had two comfy chairs facing a flat screen TV. Opposite was her bedroom which I couldn’t see into. Down the hall was the bathroom on the right then the kitchen with a very small table and two chairs.

            ‘I’ve got a few frozen meals, “Healthy Choice”, or would you like spaghetti without the meat?’

I like spaghetti so opted for that and was pleasantly surprised with the pesto through it.

We settled down in our chairs to watch a DVD called Desert hearts. I remember seeing it before but it was great being able to share it with someone who saw themselves as a dyke. I really like that word but I’m not comfortable with it for me now that I’m a boy.

We talked about my coming to terms with being a man and Marlene shared her adventures as a dyke. She liked being with women and what they did to her and she thought that maybe she and I could have a relationship which everyone would see as heterosexual. She suspected her dyke friends wouldn’t understand when she told them I was a boy but then maybe they would. I told her we’d have to go slow with this relationship thing because I had never been with someone before.

            ‘You’re like, a virgin!’ she said.

            ‘I guess so.’

 

More to come.

New friend

 

The excitement of a new job has worn off and I’m feeling very tired, even after a four-hour shift. Everything aches and I feel fluey.  We had some customers in this week who kept blowing their noses on our napkins. I tried not to touch them when I picked up their plates but I still managed to touch a wet one. I immediately went to the back and washed my hands at our own basin. Yuck.

The one bright spot was meeting Marlene, the dyke who wanted to meet me after work. We went to a different café where most of the people were women. Marlene explained it was a refuge for queer students so I felt comfortable straight off.

            ‘Now Michael, tell me your story then I’ll tell you mine.’

            ‘Where to begin? Well, I was pronounced a girl when I was born and my parents named me after my godmother. I don’t mention my baptismal name as it’s not a part of who I am. I grew up in the suburbs and loved climbing trees and kicking a football. I don’t remember playing with my dolls as I was always outside. I do remember falling out of a tree and knocking myself unconscious, or so I was told. Anyway, I woke up in my pjs and Dad’s Mum was cradling me. It must have been a shock for them. I was forbidden to climb that tree so I would wait for my Dad to drive off somewhere and then make a beeline for it. I made sure I didn’t fall out again. Oh, and Mum was busy with my little sister.

            Then my Dad died and I wanted to be the man of the house, mow the lawns, etc. when I was still only seven. I couldn’t understand why Mum wanted another man in the house or someone to mow the lawns, which were pretty extensive as we lived on a corner block. But that’s what happened and I stayed at an all-girls school til I was in Year 11 and someone called me a lesbian. That really shook me and I vehemently denied it to myself. Then I met someone who had been a boy and was now a girl. The light went on for me even though I had never met an FtM.’

            ‘Wow, my story is pretty boring. Growing up in the burbs and going to a mixed school, at least I got to socialise with both boys and girls. There was one girl I had a crush on and wanted to ask her out but was too shy. Besides, I spent all my money on cigs. I surfed the Internet and found tons of info on same sex relationships and the “It gets better project.” If a woman can make me happy then I’ll go along. Then I saw you in your café and decided that a man in my life might not be too farfetched. I haven’t been stalking you, just watching you. What do you reckon?’

            ‘I’ll have to think about it, OK?

 

 

Break room stories and being ‘read’

 

I had a quiet Sunday as Joe wanted to work in the garden but very early, like 5 am. I got up at seven and helped him move a few trees which were shading the flowers underneath too much.

‘They’re not flowering so a bit of Dynamic Lifter in water should do the trick,’ he said.

We went to another café for morning tea and it was nice to relax and be waited on. This café used numbers when placing our order and we got the right order of coffees, cappuccino in a cup for me and in a mug for Joe. I couldn’t help watching how the girls worked with a guy on the Barista who was probably the boss, being much older. I wouldn’t fit in here if they only have girls taking orders and bringing out the food and drink.

Last Friday I was ‘read’ as the community calls it. She looked like a dyke with pink dyed hair, leggings and a long shirt with Doc Martens on her feet. I took her order and nothing was said but she was looking at my chest and not my crutch.

            ‘It’s OK, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to say anything out loud.’

            I was so taken aback I dropped my pencil, my cheeks flared up (thanks to the T) and I handed in her order. When I returned she asked me when I got off work.

            ‘Five’, I said.

            ‘I’ll be back, if you don’t mind chatting.’

            ‘No, I’d love to chat.’

            I could see my boss eyeing us off and he intimated that I had found a friend. Whether she was a fair weather friend or not, I would soon find out. I was remembering the BreakRoomStories blog which linked to mine. They were often regaling us of stories about unpleasant customers. Lately they’ve been offering happy photos to help us through our shifts.

I don’t remember much of the rest of my shift as I was too excited about meeting this new friend after work. I had to concentrate on my orders and try not to mix them up. I really had it bad. It felt like a first date would, all butterflies and worrying that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself. But it wasn’t a date, only a meeting. Did the T make me more susceptible to women? Come on 5 o’clock.

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Dream

I slept in til midday yesterday. It was my first week of work and I was really tired on Sunday night. I texted my school friends to say I couldn’t meet up with them, maybe Tuesday night. Rhiannon could and we arranged to meet at her place for tea. We usually watched some movies, had popcorn and just hang out sharing the goss.

We had the lounge to ourselves as her parents were eating out at a restaurant – some anniversary or whatever. Rhiannon wasn’t invited but she was OK with that as she’s too old to be doing things with them.

She told me about her work and the people she works with. She feels she has to dress up as there seems to be a competition amongst the females. She doesn’t want to ask her mother for money now that she’s working because her mother doesn’t ask for board. Not like my Mum who wants 5%. It’s not much but I could do with every cent I get towards my TV and my car. Rhiannon is getting a car for her 18^th birthday but this is three months away. Then we can really rock the town. She’s already started having driving lessons as her parents’ cars are too expensive to insure her. She’s going with a local school called HiWay and she has an older woman called Claire teaching her. It’s only once a week to start with and she hopes her parents buy her a similar car. She doesn’t expect a new one but will be OK with a European designed car with the indicators on the left hand side instead of the right. She said Claire was small and cuddly with short blonde hair and nothing fazed her as Rhiannon crunched the gears.

Anyway, we got stuck into the popcorn and shared our work and any friends we’d made. Rhiannon was a bit shy at first before she opened up and told me about a guy at work. She’d taken a pic of him on her phone and showed me – he looked a bit like Justin Bieber. They haven’t gone out yet but have gone to lunch once. Then she asked me whom I had met so I told her about my fellow workers at the shopping centre being all female.

Then I told her my fear of being a lesbian. She was OK with it and had wondered because I was always hanging out with the girls and never joining in when we talked about guys. I told her I wasn’t sure but I liked reading kirstywirsty’s lesbian sex stories. I’m ready to meet a girl who won’t be pretending to like me or have sex just so she could say “but I thought you were straight”.

That night, last night, I had an erotic dream. I was naked in bed with Natasha and she was teaching me all the moves. I could almost feel the feathery touch of her lips over my whole body. I couldn’t keep my right hand still and reached down to find myself sopping wet, ready for my fingers to penetrate. I used my other hand to flick my clit and in unison I worked my body to a pretty good orgasm. Someone at my nipples would have been even better. I reckon it was the lesbian sex stories that did it. This wasn’t the first time I’d had an orgasm but it was different from the last one when I woke up stimulated without touching myself. I suppose I need to go to confession on Saturday as masturbation is said to be a sin, though it doesn’t hurt anyone but comes under impure thoughts. If I can’t help myself and if I can’t have a female lover, then that’s the end of Catholicism for me. Wow, fire and brimstone and lightning bolts from heaven for me. Bring it on. I want to celebrate myself.

Work and new friends

The next day I came in early so I could meet up with Natasha from the department store. I found the café on my own and ordered a Pepsi Max and got out my one and half sandwiches of peanut butter which Mum always makes for me.

I’d nearly finished eating when Natasha turned up, followed by Maria, Judy and Annie. After they ordered their drinks, we got down to sharing our stories. Maria and Judy went to the same high school and have boyfriends. Both wear lots of makeup and giggle a lot. They’re both black-haired but that could be dyed. They have to wear the stores’ clothes but can choose their footwear – runners.

Natasha was the oldest and I was the youngest. Nat had been the longest working at the Centre and she was being groomed to be a manager. This meant she had time off work to do courses in management.

I asked her if she was doing courses in social media but she had had only one session on it as others were employed in that area. She was glad she had some competence in typing as others in her class were definitely not touch-typists.

All of us have Facebook pages and Twitter accounts and we shared our Facebook names and Twitter hash tags. I’m not too sure that was a bright idea as I don’t know them very well yet.

We have two things in common – leaving school early and being teenagers.

We also work in different areas and I felt an infinity with Annie as she works in a gift shop.

Not all of us are working tonight – only Annie and I. I promised to find out my time off for tea to see if I can meet her between 6.30 and 7 pm.

At the end of lunch time, I went back with Annie to her shop to check it out while I waited to start my work. We exchanged mobile phone numbers and I would text ‘yes’ or ‘no’ if I can meet her.

I left Annie on a high and made my way to my shoe shop. I asked my boss, Mr McKenna, what time would be OK for me to have tea.

“Any time after 6”, he said, “My daughter, Melanie, will be coming in to help out as it gets busy on Thursday evenings.”

I texted Annie with a ‘yes’.

The afternoon was a bit slow but Mr McKenna taught me a few things about selling shoes. Melanie turned up at 6 pm and I went to tea with Annie around 6.30 pm.

We went to another shop in the food court and ordered dinner. It was quite noisy but Annie has a deep voice which I love listening to. She’s taller than me and a year older, with auburn hair. She wears runners because they’re more comfortable standing up. She’s quite tanned and I asked her about going sunbathing. She laughed and said that was her natural colour. She’s part Aborigine but I wouldn’t have guessed it. She’s also got a smart dress on, very slimming, as the owner of the shop likes her assistants to look classy. I had a million questions I wanted to ask her but we ran out of time. I’ll have to wait until Saturday as she’s not working tomorrow night.

I thought I was working 6 days a week but Mum rang Mr McKenna and said 6 days was too much for me to do in my first job. So I’ll have Monday and Tuesday off as my weekend and hopefully my friends from school and work have similar shifts.

Oh, it’s my birthday today and the family celebrated over breakfast. I got the usual girly things like makeup and perfume – cheap and nasty. Mum said I already had her present – using her credit card to buy Kindle books.

Back at work Melanie and I worked well together, I think. She’s coming in again tomorrow and maybe we can hang out later before my parents pick me up.

Today I was picked up at 9.10 pm and I explained to Melanie how it was my birthday. She sort of squealed and wished me ‘happy birthday. I hope we can be friends for a long time.

When I got home and got onto my computer, my school friends had again wished me ‘happy birthday’ and when could we catch up. I messaged back ‘soon’ and told them my hours and two days off. Hopefully it will be soon.

Will I lose my school friends as I meet work friends? I need an interim goal as the car deposit is too far off.

 

 

Work

‘Intimacy is always a risk, but the risk of loneliness is far greater.’

I found this at collca (k:60). How am I going to get closer to my goal of finding a partner, be it male or female?

My best friends are also leaving school but they have work in the city. One is a filing clerk for a bank (boring) and another works in a restaurant. It will be hard to catch up during the week plus at the weekend there’ll only be the two of us. I would really like to meet some lesbians to see what they’re like and if I’m like them.

I contacted Minus 18 and hopefully I’ll meet up with them soon. I looked for them at the Midsumma festival but couldn’t find them. I went on my own without telling anyone, let alone Mum. There were hundreds of lesbians there. I felt really alone yet connected.

* * *

Guess what? I got myself a job. Nothing to crow about but I don’t have to travel into the city every day. The bad news is I have to work six days a week, including the weekends and Thursday and Friday evenings. We’ll have to share our rosters to see when we’re all free to get together. And if we go out Saturday night I can’t be too late, not that my parents let me stay out much after midnight anyway. The upside is I won’t be available for babysitting or having many meals with the family. I know Mum likes to keep a hot meal for me ready to heat in the microwave, but it’s usually pretty dry. We seem to have chops and three veg nearly every night.so I should be healthy.

And it’s a shoe shop I’ll be working in. Mum found the job for me when I was sleeping in last week. I can catch the bus into the Centre and I can wear my usual clothes, nothing fancy but modern. The manager is a man who has owned the shop for many years – he’s grey and wears long shirts and a tie. I call him Mr McKenna. He has a daughter, Melanie, who works with him but she’ll be going to Uni soon so he needs a replacement. The late evening hours coincide with the hours of the Centre as well as the weekend when they get most of their trade. Melanie will help out at the weekends, on either day. She’s short like me with spikey hair (not like me) and has some really trendy clothes and shoes. I’ve met her once and she seems really cool so it will be nice to have a friendly face for my start in my full-time job.

And I had to give notice to the gift shop. They were sorry to see me go but they couldn’t afford me full time.

Will I get closer to intimacy this year? Stay tuned.

Diary of a babydyke first entry

Dear Diary

This is my very first entry in my diary that I was given for my birthday by my godmother. I suppose I should tell you all about myself, my family and my best friends. My name is Kate Riley and I’m 16 years old. I have two sisters (Anne and Ruth) and a brother (Peter). We all go to Catholic colleges except for my youngest sister who’s too young to go to school, being a baby. My full sister and myself had a different father from the other two because our father died when I was seven and she was four and a half. I don’t remember much about him but I remember missing him terribly. When I had a bike (about ten), I would ride to the cemetery and visit his grave. I would hope a golf ball would land on his grave and he would wake up. How pathetic. I haven’t been there for years but I haven’t forgotten him. I don’t like my stepfather. He was my Dad’s best mate but we don’t have the parties we used to have when my Dad was alive. He’s not a Catholic either and he and Mum had to get married at the side altar because the main one in the centre is for Catholics only. Interestingly, my Mum married both her husbands at the same side altar at the same church. I was nine by now and it was a cold June day in Melbourne. My Dad’s mother was there as well as Mum’s mother (it was her church). The only other time I remember them being together was when my Dad died. They were seated in the lounge room and I’d been at a neighbour’s as I had a sore throat. I kept saying “where’s Daddy?” This hadn’t happened to anyone I knew in our street or at school. According to one girl, they were told to treat me gently as my father had died. I only just found that from one of my friends.

I have two lots of friends. One larger group I hang out with at school. We’re not sporty nerds nor are we computer nerds. We just like to sit around at lunchtime and shoot the breeze. Within this group are those I hang out with at weekends and go on outings. Then there is a group that I go to dances with and we spend nearly all of Saturday negotiating with each others’ parents to take us to a dance and bring us home. The homeward bound is always trickier as it’s around midnight so we often get a lift with a boy whom we’ve just met. Not good but what the oldies don’t know won’t hurt them.

My second lot of friends I see only once a week and we are Girl Guides. I really love this group where I am a leader and have nearly all my First Class badges. I’m not sure about my Queens Guide as I don’t know any group, besides the orphanage where another Guide volunteers, where I could do the same for my community service. I tell myself it doesn’t matter but a little bit of me does. I’m rather shy and have trouble putting myself forward. Except in the Guide meetings and on camp.

I really like one of the adult leaders, a young blonde, who kisses us goodnight when we’re on camp. I missed out one night and asked for two kisses. How bold!

Which reminds me – where am I going to hide this diary from prying eyes, like my sister. We’ve never got on and she would get into my dolls when I was at school and play with them. I was over playing with them but I didn’t want anyone else touching them.

I forgot my street friends. I used to play football with the boy next door and I’m the best kick in the street. I now hang out with his sister. They both go to the local high school and I wish I did, too. It’s only a short walk away but it’s not a Catholic school. Whereas I have to catch a bus.

Anyway, my friend, Jane, and I hang out with two boys in the next street. One of the boys has a twin sister in my class but I’ve never seen her outside. They live next door to my French teacher whom I think is gorgeous. I don’t want to admit it but my reason for spending all this time with the boys is so I can be with my girlfriend and near my teacher, in case she comes out.

This sounds like I do a lot of talking. As I wrote before,  I’m rather shy and don’t like speaking in public. In fact, I’ve avoided reading in class for eight years. I used to hide in the chapel when I was younger until a nun came along and booted me out. She was right. I enjoy the sunshine but not getting burnt as happened last summer. We’re always admonished to ‘slip, slop, slap’ and our school has even re-introduced wide-brimmed hats. And each classroom has a large container of suntan lotion. Those exempt are the ones who have passes to go to the library or the computer complex. My friends and I try and find some shade, preferably under the tree. And shoot the breeze til the bell goes.

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