I grumbled as my phone's ringtone dragged me out of the depths of sleep. Considering I'd been up till sometime after two in the morning reading and hanging out with friends on Discord I really didn't appreciate the early wake-up call.

And of course the ringing stopped just as soon as I fumbled to pick the phone up from my bedside table. Unfortunately the damage was already done. I was awake, sort of, and found myself squinting at the screen to figure out what time it was.

"Seriously?" I muttered. "Half past five on a Sunday morning is not the time to be calling anyone!"

I was just about the set the phone back down when it started ringing again. All my grumpiness and sleepy anger were replaced with worry the instant I saw the name on the call display. Sunny's Diner was dad's restaurant, and there's no way he'd be calling me from work at this time of day unless it was some kind of emergency.

"Hey dad," I greeted him as I held the phone up to my ear. "Are you ok? What's wrong?"

Dad sounded stressed as he replied, "Good morning hon, I'm sorry I had to call so early. I really hate to do this but I have to ask, is there any chance you can come help me out this morning? Sally called in sick at the last minute and Angie's out of town on vacation for another week. Maureen's here but she can't handle the brunch rush on her own..."

Hearing all that left me equal parts relieved and stressed. On the one hand I was glad nothing serious happened, dad wasn't hurt and he didn't get into a car accident or anything like that. On the other hand getting up at half past five then spending six or seven hours waiting tables was not how I wanted to spend my Sunday morning.

"If you can't make it that's fine," dad added after a few seconds of silence. "We can just tell customers we're short-staffed, so they'll know to expect delays. Or we can leave some tables empty, or..."

"It's fine dad," I finally responded. It wasn't how I wanted to spend my morning, but I couldn't say no to him. Not after everything he'd done for me. I stifled a yawn as I added, "I need to shower and get ready so I'll be about an hour. Is there uh, do I need to worry about a uniform or anything?"

Dad sounded relieved and maybe a bit guilty as he replied, "Don't worry about that hon. You're doing me a huge favour, so whatever you're comfortable with is best. Except um, you might want to bring hair ties or something? Just to keep it out of your way. Oh and comfortable shoes of course."

"Yeah," I grimaced. "I'll be on my feet a lot. Ok dad I'll see you in about an hour."

"Thanks hon, I really appreciate it! Love you!"

I smiled, "I love you too dad. See you soon."

We both hung up, then I put the phone down and dragged myself up and out of bed. I shuffled into the bathroom and straight into the shower, and with barely three hours sleep behind me I started getting ready for a shift at my dad's restaurant.

The place didn't look like anything special, it was basically a typical little independent diner. It didn't even have an original gimmick, it was just another all-day breakfast place. Except that wasn't accurate, since he wasn't actually open 'all day'. The place didn't serve dinner, and dad typically shut the doors in mid-afternoon after the lunch crowd had left. That still meant he usually worked ten to eleven hours a day, five or six days a week.

And I couldn't shake the thought that he was doing it for me. He helped me with my university tuition, and he even helped with some other expenses too. Basically I felt like I owed my dad a lot, so if he needed me to help out at Sunny's Diner then I'd do whatever I could for him.

This wouldn't be my first experience working with dad, back in high school I'd part-timed it on weekends and after school. Dad had me bussing tables and running the dishwasher back then, but normally the waitresses cleared the tables and whoever had the time would run them through the machine. So that part of the job wouldn't be new, but today would be my very first time working as a waitress.

Then I realized this was also going to be my first visit to the restaurant since I started my transition. And that thought left me feeling a little anxious, as I emerged from the shower and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

My heart sank as I stared at the visible whiskers around my mouth and chin, and my prominent adam's apple. Laser hadn't been as effective as I'd hoped, and electrolysis was slow and painful. I knew there was surgery that could get rid of the lump in my throat, I'd even briefly looked into FFS to fix the overall shape of my face, but those sorts of things were years away, if ever. For now my priority was just keep taking hormones while saving up for bottom surgery.

After another few seconds I tried to push the dysphoria away, by focusing on the positives instead. I'd been growing out my hair for a while now, it was already down to my shoulders. And I figured out what products worked best so when I put in the effort it looked really good. I also had a decent skin-care routine going, so my hands were nice and soft. I couldn't maintain long nails, but they had a good shape to them that I thought made my fingers look a little nicer. And best of all, I'd been on hormones long enough that they were finally starting to show some results.

All in all I was doing pretty good considering it wasn't even that long ago I started to transition. I just needed to be patient, give it another year or so and things would be a lot better.

Then again, a year felt like a long time, and in the meantime I had to work with what I saw in the mirror in front of me. And it was hard to hold onto those positive thoughts while confronted with my raw naked reflection.

Instead it was easier to see the things I hated, the things that made me feel self-conscious. The things that I saw as blatantly masc. Like my unibrow, my 'strong jaw line', and my protruding nose. The dark facial hair that always seemed visible whether I shaved or not. Then there was my voice, I hadn't been able to start voice training yet and it felt like another big tell. It was also another source of dysphoria.

That's when it hit me, I'd be dealing with dozens of strangers today. Maybe even hundreds. How many times would I be misgendered, how many times would people get my name wrong because they couldn't reconcile a feminine name with all the masc cues my body was giving them?

For a few seconds I actually considered going boymode for the day. I almost convinced myself that'd be easier. Skip the make-up, dress masc, use my deadname, let people think I was a weird long-haired guy. Better that than dealing with accidental misgendering and casual transmisia. Or intentional misgendering and malicious transmisia.

After another second or two I shuddered then shook my head, "No damnit! Remember your New Year's resolution! Think positive, look up, and no more boymode! You're a girl, and anyone who doubts that can go straight to hell!"

The little pep-talk worked, and after that I quickly shaved and did my hair before spending some extra time on my make-up to ensure it was just right. It didn't take long to pick an outfit, I got a new long wool skirt for xmas that was perfect for the winter months. It even had pockets which was awesome. And I had a white long-sleeve blouse that looked good ontop. I wore leggings under my skirt for some added warmth, and to hide the fact that I hadn't shaved my legs in a while. And finally a black cardigan over the blouse incase I got cold in the restaurant.

Next came some jewelry. Nothing too fancy or ostentatious, but I went with some large dangly pink hoops in my ears and a cute chunky pink necklace. With that, I was almost ready to go.

I stuffed my favourite black sneakers in a bag along with my little purse, but the trek to the restaurant called for winter boots and my bulky parka. Fortunately it wasn't too far to walk, it was just the weather that made it an issue. Then after double-checking I had everything, I set out on my cold pre-dawn morning hike.

It only took me five minutes to regret not wearing my new hat. It was a warm wool toque, and best of all it had a pair of cute fuzzy animal-ears on top. I'd been worried about messing up my hair, but the wind saw to that regardless.

I ended up with the hood of my parka pulled up tight around my face as I braved the blowing snow. I even questioned at one point whether there'd be any customers at the restaurant at all, considering what it was like outside. Except most of them would probably be driving, and while Sunny's Diner wasn't the only breakfast place in town it was probably the best. At least I thought it was.

So I really wasn't that surprised to find not only was the restaurant already open when I got there at ten minutes to seven, but there were even a few customers already inside.

I hurried in as well, then stood for a few moments under the heat vent just inside the doors as I shook the snow off my coat and out of my hair. As I unbuttoned my parka the other waitress moved past me on her way to one of the tables with a couple mugs of coffee in hand.

Maureen was an older woman, I actually recognized her from when I bussed tables a few years back. She was probably around my dad's age, plenty of laugh-lines on her face, and short greying curly blonde hair. I knew she was married and had a bunch of kids who'd all grown up and moved away, and from what I could remember she was a nice lady who could keep a dozen different orders straight in her head and seemed to have a sixth sense that told her whenever one of her tables needed something.

"Just seat yourself," she commented as she moved past me. She obviously assumed I was a customer, but before I could correct her she added, "I'll be right with you sir."

Needless to say that wasn't the kind of reaction I was hoping for, and it felt like all my fears and doubts were coming true before I even got started. It was especially painful considering I was wearing a skirt, my winter boots had heels, my parka was white and obviously a femme style. Plus my hair was long and I was wearing make-up and femme-coded jewelry. Even at a cursory glance my bright red lipstick had to stand out.

Without waiting for a response Maureen hurried on past me to deliver the coffees to her table. Meanwhile my shoulders slumped and I trudged straight through the dining room towards the doors at the back. I pushed through and into the kitchen, where I found my dad standing by the grill watching over some bacon, ham, sausage, and a whole lot of eggs.

He was a tall man, standing just under a hundred and ninety centimetres, and I'd inherited his height along with the dark hair, prominent nose, and manly jaw-line. Honestly I looked a lot like he did when he was a young man, and I died a little inside every time anyone told me that as if it was a compliment. Nowadays dad's hair was more salt-and-pepper than black, and needless to say his was cut a lot shorter than mine. Neither of us were overly muscular though, dad was slim but otherwise in good shape while I was just kind of skinny.

As usual he was dressed in his typical work clothes, consisting of white trousers and a white long-sleeved t-shirt. He also wore an off-white apron with a few pockets on the front, and he had black shoes with non-slip soles.

I pushed past my low mood from the waitress's reaction and forced a smile as I greeted him, "Hi dad, sorry I'm a bit late. What should I do, where should I start?"

"Krissy!" he smiled as he hurried over to hug me. "I'm sorry to wake you so early, but you don't know how happy I am that you could come in and help out today!"

He kept me in a tight hug as he added, "Sundays are our busiest day of the week, from eight until two it's one wave after another. Having you here is a real life-saver."

I hugged him back as I mumbled, "I don't know about that dad, but I'll do what I can to help. So where do I start?"

"What's wrong hon?" dad asked as he pulled back to look me in the eyes. "You seem upset?"

I shook my head and lied, "It's nothing, I'm just a bit tired I guess. So where do I start?"

He watched me for another second before hurrying back to check the grill again. Then he responded, "You can hang up your coat in the office. And change your shoes in there, do anything else you need to get ready. Then when you're all set I'll have Maureen get you started out front."

"Ok dad," I said as I stifled a sigh.

There were a half-dozen cubby-holes and a coat rack against one wall in the office. I hung up my coat and left my boots underneath, then after transferring my phone and a few hair-ties into my pockets I tucked my purse and bag into one of the cubbies. I took an extra minute or two standing in front of the mirror in the staff washroom to fix my hair and check my make-up, then when I was as presentable as I could get I took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen.

Dad was putting the finishing touches on an order, and even though I hadn't been there for a couple years I still recognized the dishes. There was a 'grand slam' special with three strips of bacon, three sausages, and three eggs as you please, served with a pile home-fries and two thick slices of toast. The second plate was a more modest toasted western sandwich, and more home-fries.

Both plates went up under the hot-lamp and dad hit the little bell that meant an order was ready, then he turned to face me again. With a wide smile he announced, "Krissy you look fantastic! I told you not to dress up, didn't I? I hope you'll be comfortable in that?"

"Thanks dad," I couldn't help smiling a little. "And don't worry, this is very comfy. I love this skirt you got me."

He was still smiling as he pulled something out of a pocket of his apron, "This is for you as well, if you don't mind? I ah, had it made when you changed your name. Incase you ever decided to come work with me again."

I found myself looking down at a plastic name-tag. It had the restaurant name and logo across the top, and below that was my name etched in bold black letters. "Wow dad, I -"

At that moment Maureen came into the kitchen to collect the two plates under the hot-lamp, then paused when she saw me standing there next to dad and the grill.

"Ah Maureen," my father said. "This is Krissy, my daughter. She's here to help us with the Sunday rush."

The way dad put extra emphasis on my name and the word 'daughter' made me think he'd already figured out what was bothering me when I arrived. He'd been my biggest ally ever since I first came out to him, and there were times I almost thought he was more vigilant and got more upset than I did about people misgendering or deadnaming me.

The older woman's eyes widened slightly then she nodded and smiled, "Of course! Krissy, sorry I didn't recognize you a few minutes ago. It's been what, two or three years since you were last in here? You're looking wonderful hon. Why don't you head over to the register while I go make some hungry people happy, then we'll get started."

"Hi Maureen," I replied as I forced another smile. "Sounds good."

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