DerbyGhost

My hand is no longer burned! Therefor I can edit the rest of this chapter. Sorry about the longer wait...

“Well you look like you’re having a rough night.” Great how shitty does your day have to be going for that to be the first thing your Lyft driver leads off with? Considering the amount of shit that he probably has to deal with on a daily basis and the stories that he probably has, yeah that’s pretty rough. “Are you Andy?” 

Oh thank God I put that name down instead of my full name when I signed up for this cursed app. A little more wiggle room for interactions, which has turned out to be the biggest of blessings.

“Uh yeah that’s me.” I climbed into the back seat. Only sociopaths go into the front seat of an rideshare when there’s other options available. If you’re riding with a bunch of other people and you take the front seat, sure you’re a hero. But choosing it willingly, you probably don’t have anxiety so I guess kudos for you.

The front seat declares a level of familiarity that I feel like I just don’t have. Like I’m intruding on someone’s private space. Thurston said one time the driver insisted he come into the front seat and ride around with him. That just feels like this gross invasion of the driver’s privacy and one's own personal space bubble. Hell not just the driver’s privacy, but yours as well. “I’m heading over to Sweet Tooths. Do you know where that is?”

“Girl I have no idea where the hell half the places in this city are.” He tapped his cell phone which was attached to his windshield with one of those little plastic adhesive phone holder thingies. “But lucky for me I’ve got an overpriced iphone which can look up whatever information we so happen to need. And also the GPS is on the app that pays me so that works too” He pulled out from Pho-Nomenal and I shuffled in my seat a little bit to watch it grow smaller as we sped away. I still partially expected my parents to come outside and continue to shout about what a disappointment their son was. But as we pulled out of sight all I could feel was relief that I got out of there.

I made it. I was free. It felt like a weight had lifted off of my shoulders. But free to do what exactly? It’s not like I could ignore them forever. I’d had this family for 21 years. They weren’t perfect sure, but, but, okay actually I don’t really have anything to go in there. 

I realized that I probably should send a few texts to let everyone know about what happened. I shot a quick “Who’s got two thumbs and wants to drink at your bar? This girl! I’ll be there in like fifteen” to Zoey. Yes that’s barely a change of what I said to Josh. My brain just wasn’t attaching itself to anything and it was better to speak with cliches rather than just being unable to speak at all.

I had to deal with telling Elle about what happened eventually. All I could settle on was “Meeting sucked. Don’t want to talk about it. See you at Sweet Tooth sometime tonight?” Every text that I sent I felt a little regret that I didn’t get out of that situation sooner. Sure there was no way I was going to know my parents would respond like. . . that. But I feel like an idiot to have just waltzed into that situation and just flippantly answered everything. I can’t believe I pushed them into acting like that. That was just stupid. So absolutely astronomically stupid of me. Stupid girl.

My uber driver, I checked his name really quickly on the phone, Harrison looked over his shoulder briefly when we were stopped at a red light. “Are you okay back there? I’ve got some sodas and things in the little cubby between seats. If you’re feeling down a little chocolate always helps.” I looked beside me and sure enough there was an assortment of fun sized candy bars. I took a snickers and tried to hold back a little sniffle as I unwrapped it while Harrison kept talking.

“Whatever happened it must have been really rough. Someone must have been a real asshole to make a pretty girl like you cry like that.” I blushed a little bit at his complement. In most situations I would have been on my guard, even as a guy. But honestly I could use a bit of positivity right now. My brain kept repeating the words over and over again. Pretty girl. I’m a pretty girl? That felt so nice to hear. It must have been because I was feeling so shitty that my brain was attaching itself to anything. I know I would have shuddered if someone called me a pretty girl right after I transformed. So it had to be my body chasing the endorphin rush. Everyone liked to be complemented, so why couldn’t I enjoy it for once. 

“Do you wanna talk about it? Your boyfriend or girlfriend break up with you? Family troubles? Disease diagnoses? Just a shitty mental health day?”

I looked out the window to try to ignore looking at his eyes in the rear view mirror. “I guess family troubles. I saw my mom and dad for the first time in a while since starting this year of college and . . . well I guess you could say they didn’t have many nice things to say about me. About things I can’t really control about myself.”

Harrison scoffed, “parents eh? When I came out as gay when I was 18 my dad threw me out of the house. Literally. I didn’t even have time to grab a change of clothes.”

“Oh my God that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“Eh it’s okay. I’m doing great now. I have a wonderful husband and I see my mom twice a year. Sometimes it’s not worth holding onto those toxic things.” Harrison flipped his turn signal on, I looked at the gps and it seemed like we weren't even halfway there to Sweet Tooth.

“Can I ask you something Harrison, if you don’t mind. Something kind of personal?” A question had been floating in the back of my mind since the transformation. A question that I didn’t really feel like mulling over all by myself. So why not just randomly ask this dude tethered to the gig economy?? Might as well right, what’s the worst that can happen?

“As long as it’s not about my sex life, I’ll tell you whatever you need to know. Sex life info is reserved for close friends and people who buy me drinks.” He gave a little wink, and that was sweet and all but if nothing else this ride confirmed my notion that I was primarily attracted to women.

“How. . . How did you know. you know? How did you really feel like ‘yes. I am gay.’ And then like, that was just who you were. Like you were comfortable with that and were okay with people just looking at you and being like ‘cool a gay guy.’ And then just having the confidence to say to me, a stranger in your own car, ‘Hell yeah I’m gay and check out this horrifying trauma that I lived through as a child’ and just to think nothing of it? 

I could feel my eyes watering and I knew I had to push through this. I knew I had to talk my way out of my brain before it became impossible for me to even say anything. “I’m a wreck 25/7 just dealing with this stuff, y’know. Orientation and gender. It’s way too much. And everyone expects you to have everything figured out and to fit in this neat little box without even telling you how to fit in anywhere. It’s driving me fucking nuts. And then they penalize you when you step out of the box even though you don’t know where the rules are. It’s goddamn Calvinball. Just making everything up as you go along and hoping nobody calls you out on it. I can’t live with my parents' rules like that. I can’t live with those restrictions! I don’t even know who I am, how can I respond when people want some kind of direct conclusive answer?” 

The tightness in my chest was back, it seemed to return every time that I thought too hard about myself and this situation. Which typically is a sign to stop thinking about things and just shut down. But it’s like, as soon as I got my body changed I lost my ability to just stop processing things. To ignore shit, and push it down until it’s so micro sized that I don’t have to feel it anymore. Damnable estrogen and girl emotions!! 

Harrison seemed to be thinking for a moment, tapping his steering wheel in time to the beat. “You know what the most stressful time for me was in my entire time spent as a member of the LGBTQ community?” I shook my head. “For me it was when I was 16 years old. I had my first crush, Jeremy Goggins – football player, fantastic ass. And I kept it all to myself. I told myself I was happy when he was dating a cheerleader. Told myself I was fine when I asked some random girl to prom to make my parents happy. My mental health was at its worst when I was hiding who I really was. You feel me?”

He was looking at me expectedly. And I didn’t know how to really respond. I never had a period of my life where I spent it hiding who I really was. Or did I? Last year I started taking these long walks, like really long walks at about 1 am in the morning. I’d just leave my apartment and go, walking up and down the street. Hell sometimes walking in the street hoping that I could get clipped by a random car and just kind of make things stop.

It wasn’t like I was suicidal or anything. I was just tired with my life. Specifically tired of who everyone saw me as. More and more of my life it felt like I was playing this character that my parents and friends wanted me to be. And I felt so hollow and empty inside. Whatever was happening in my brain was so disconnected to my body that I didn’t really mind what happened to it because it was just a loaner or something.

There were also times when I would go shopping with mom and she had to drag me around the store to see if we could find anything remotely wearable. We always walked through the women’s section first and by the time we were done shopping my mom would be so tired of me asking for clothes that looked more like the women’s stuff and less like the dour button up hell that was cis men fashion. Speaking of fashion, suits were always the worst. They were hot, stifling, and I always just looked like a total jackass wearing them. I remember last year at my cousin’s wedding I spent the entire time looking at the bridesmaids and thinking about how cool it would be to have a dress like theirs. It looked so fun and free. They had this little community group that seemed to not care about anyone else, laughing and crying together. I didn’t really cast a second glance at any of the groomsmen, huh. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Oh fuckity fuckaroo.

“I guess. I guess I know what you mean. But how do you feel comfortable just to say ‘I’m gay?’ Didn’t it suck to get thrown out of your house? Didn’t that hurt?”

Harrison sighed, “Oh of course it did. I cried for days. I felt like I was the one who massively screwed up. How fucked up is that huh? They’re the ones who acted like dicks and I’m the one expected to apologize. But ultimately, one day I just realized I was free of their influence. I could look at books and websites openly that I had to sneak around the house. I could listen to whatever music I wanted to without being judged by my asshole dad. I could learn about politics that weren’t just my parents shitty blind affiliation to the Republican party. I was free of them completely and it was entirely up to me on whether I wanted them back in my life or not. 

“Now was it hard, hell yes it was. But I went through that adversity and now I got a social work degree and I help parents and queer kids work through their misunderstandings, so people don’t have to go through what I did.”

“Alright. Then why are you participating in the capitalist hell that is the gig economy? Does social work pay much less than I thought it did?” I scratched my hair, causing stray strands to fall into my field of vision. I let out a little ‘puff’ of air and blew it out of my eyes. I might need a hairband or something.

He laughed as we pulled up right in front of Sweet Tooth. I was so into the conversation that I didn’t even realize that the minutes just kind of ticked by. “Well I guess I just like to talk to people who might need it. I know not everyone likes talking in a Lyft, but sometimes folx need to just vent to someone they’ll never see again. And it’s some extra money for trips together. We’re going to Disney World this year. Yeah they suck and they completely violate the rights of their workers, but hey, no ethical consumption under late stage capitalism, right?” 

His eyes lit up and he unlocked the door. “Well Andy, I hope everything goes well for you. I’m gonna think some good thoughts and I hope you’ll find some peace with yourself and your own identity. Maybe your family will realize what a mistake it was to treat you like they did tonight. Here.” He reached into his glove compartment for a moment and pulled out what appeared to be his business card. On it it had his name, number, and title which was apparently ‘LGBT Youth Social Worker.”

I got out of the car, thanking Harrison and immediately pulling out my phone to rate him 5 stars. I remembered I kept some cash on me for the tip at the restaurant for the food that I never was able to eat and made sure to give it all to Harrison to make up for how shitty Lyft treated their employees. 

Even if the conversation was stressful at points, my body felt much calmer honestly than I should have been. It’s wild what some perspective can do I suppose. I left a little thank you in the comments and turned to face the door to Sweet Tooth. Well the door and the bouncer. Fuck me. Can I just not catch a break?

For a second I just stood there and stared Mexican Stand-Off style at the bouncer. Which honestly is a shitty phrase and I really should just take it out of my vocabulary. How do I even replace that? Spaghetti Western Stand-off? Yeah good enough. It was just me. And her. I could even pretend there was a little tumbleweed rolling in between us to heighten the tension. 

The bouncer was a butch looking 20 something with a patch filled denim jacket and a shaved head. She was smoking a menthol cigarette and nodding her head along to whatever 90s punk ditty Sweet Tooth was playing on their speaker. I liked her already, but she was standing between me and Zoey and that sweet sweet alcohol. 

Honestly besides the whole catastrophic tiff with my parents the worst thing about getting magically girl-i-fied was losing access to all of my forms of identification. I can’t go on worrying that every single time I leave the house I’m going to be harassed or won’t have access to my God earned right to alcohol, dammit. I had survived 21 years of my life, and I guess I could go to the court system to get my ID back but it seemed like such a lot of time to put into something when I was going to change back soon anyway. 

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Just approach her naturally and hope she’ll just think I’m old enough and let me in. Walk upright and like I know what I’m doing and there’s no way that she’ll ask for my ID.

“Can I see your ID?” OKAY so that didn’t work. For a moment I’m distracted by the sweet husky nature of her voice, billowing strands of smoke escaping her dark purple lips into the cool night air. So obviously, I need to figure out this ID system asap. 

The way I see it I can either give the damn card to her or not. If I give them my real ID, there’s going to be the huge problem if they look at it. One way or another they’ll realize that the goofy smiling teenager on the ID picture is definitely not me. I could tell her I lost it, and then get denied entrance. God I wish I had just had some confidence for once in my goddamn life. So many people bluff their way through a situation like this. Teens buy beer all the time with nothing but a shitty fake and a smile, so why can’t I?

So fuck it. I took a deep breath. Thought about what Harrison said. Life will be at its worst when I’m trying to hide myself. If I constantly try to avoid the issue I’m just going to be having this problem again in a slightly different way the next time I go out to a place that requires ID. As I fished out my ratty paper wallet and handed the girl my ID, my heart was absolutely pounding. I realized I had like, approximately 30 seconds if I wanted to run away screaming. Or I could pretend my friends meant another bar.

She looked down at it. Searched around for where the date was. And then handed it back to me, just like that.

Really. Just like that. That simple.

I even let out a “Huh.” Of shock. She passed me back my ID and I felt kind of giddy. I couldn’t believe my luck. Finally something awesome was happening. Andi gets cut a little a break by fate, as a treat. I was about to start walking through when she waved my attention back to her.

“Hey wait a second.” I thought my heart was pounding beforehand but now it was a full on Whiplash style drum solo. I froze on my way into the door and turned to see what she had to say. “I just wanted to say that it really sucks that the state won’t let you update your name and gender with a new ID. The gatekeeping in the fucking South huh? I know the red tape is rough here when you try to get your gender marker changed, so please keep being your beautiful self and fuck all those small minded politicians who try to make you feel bad about who you are. Oh and I love your hair. I’m never able to grow mine out that long without cutting it.”

“Oh uh… t-t-t-thanks. Your jacket is rad.” My face burned like I had just chugged a bottle of sriracha and I could’t exactly match her eyes. There was something about the way that she was looking at me that just set my whole soul on fire.

‘I love your hair.’ I love your hair. I love your hair. I love your hair. I kept repeating that moment in time again and again savoring the way it made me feel like it was the last bite of a delicious meal. 

Come to think of it, earlier today I was complimented multiple times by different people at the mall, and it was delicious each time. Those initial times caught me off guard, since I’m not really the kind of person who deserves compliments. Is this just some sort of normal thing that happens to lady-presenting people? And most importantly, holy shit is this what compliments feel like? My whole brain felt like it was wrapped up in a big fuzzy blanket. My limbs were lighter, and I almost pranced into Sweet Tooth. She loves my hair. The cool butch door person with the shiny enamel pins and this devil may fucking care attitude loves my hair. Is this allowed? Do I have to tell her that I used to be a guy? Does that even matter?

But she already thinks I’m trans? 

Which I’m not. I’m just some asshole who got Houdiini’d into looking like a woman. It’s not like I asked to be a girl. It’s not like I deserve to be a girl. 

There are hundreds of trans people in the world who deserve to have this. Hundreds of people who would kill for the opportunity that I have. And they don’t get to have it because of me. Because of some idiot girl who got cursed instead of them. 

A girl who can’t talk to her parents without making a massive scene. A girl who gets flustered and loses the abilities to words good whenever she’s around pretty women. A girl who just doesn’t deserve this because she’s not trans no matter how much easier it would make things. No matter how much she desperately wants to be.

Wait…

I just spent that entire time thinking of myself as a girl.  Isn’t it time to fucking admit to myself that I like being a girl.

There. I said it. I like being a girl. And fuck my parents for making me constantly question that. Fuck this downward spiral. A pretty woman just told me that I looked cute, and it made me smile and blush. I had genuine fun shopping today when it wasn’t anxiety inducing. I can look at myself in a mirror and smile at what I see. Sure it’s not familiar. But it’s nice. 

It feels good being a girl. It feels good getting validated randomly. It feels good to wear clothes that feel like they fit me and my personality. I was even getting kind of used to my new anatomy. I was excited to look at my body again, for the first time since literally hitting puberty. Oh fuck puberty, the red flags were just piling up. I remember crying when I learned how to shave and feeling like I was dying while my dad was telling me this was part of being a man. Why did I think that was normal? Josh didn’t have that reaction, and I fucking had to watch him learn how to shave. Dad thought I needed a reminder lesson on how to be masculine. Why did I think my mental state was normal for so long?

My body sought the bar on autopilot. That one conversation with the bouncer was a small rainstorm that completely overloaded the mental dam that I had built over years and years of my life. 

Over the last 24 hours I had done my best to try to logically sort out my feelings regarding my transformation. Now in a haze I realize I feel good. I laughed to myself, I can’t believe that Parker did me a favor. Hell I can’t even believe that Parker did something right for once. 

Now do I wish he asked for permission before hitting me with a magical wumbo jumbo? Of course I did, you can’t just nonconsensually change someone’s body for your own pleasure. That still made me feel sleazy and I resolved that I needed to deal with his grubby unwashed ass soon. There had to be some way to stop him from harming someone ever again. RIght? Totally. 

But I’m not letting him steal how good this revelation feels from myself. Sure it was an unconventional means of transition, but my body felt right. I felt good. I was caught in the middle of laughing and crying, I had no idea what to do with my overflow of pure emotions. I felt like I could generate a whole city if we could harness energy from the pure amount of feelings that I was feeling.

From a distance I saw Zoey and she waved me over. I had to put a little bit of effort in to get up onto the stool and saw her. All her angles and grace. She was muddling some fruit for some kind of whiskey cocktail and I had front row seats to witness her in action. She must have been an extremely practiced bartender, the recipe was memorized and she moved with such fluidity that it was like watching a dancer in action. I mean don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like she was all Tom Cruise in Cocktail and flipping bottles around. But instead she was like a predator and an alchemist fused together into one beautiful crafty seductress. 

She passed her drink to a slender woman in a suit at the bar, tilting her head softly to laugh at some sort of joke that the two of them shared. God, I don’t get how someone can be so unconsciously attractive. Like it’s just second nature for her. Shit she’s coming back stay calm.

“How are you doing Andi? You look like you’ve been having kind of a rough night.”

I really needed to look at myself in the mirror. Why was that the major response that I was getting from everybody? “Oh, well it’s all uphill from here. I can feel it. Guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m a girl!”

“Uh yeah. That’s how we met, remember. Magical spell and all that.” She got a really concerned look on her face. Oh fuck she was hot when she was concerned too, her forehead all scrunching up. “You didn’t get hit with some kind of mind changing spell did you?”

“No no I mean. I’ve always been a girl. I’m transgender.” I waited a beat. “Um ta-da. I guess we don’t really need the magical friend now unless we want to learn other sick magical stuff.”

“I mean don’t you want to learn sick magical stuff?”

“Well actually hell yeah. I wanna be a cool witch. Hey, I can be a witch? I don’t have to say wizard huh.” I giggled, giddy with the surge of power that comes from self recognition. “I can admit I liked Sailor Moon now right? And like Nancy Drew books? Which I know is weird, I’m a girl not someone from the 1940s, but I still liked her. Oh and I can admit that Batwoman is  sooo much cooler than Batman? Oh God I guess nerds won’t even listen to my opinions anymore. And I can just like. Love this stuff and not say it was ironic or anything? Like I genuinely loved them as a kid. Holy shit. Harrison was right this does feel awesome. um he was my Lyft driver.. Which like yeah Lyft sucks and all but i had no other option. And Oh am I talking to much I think I’m talking to much I’m just so very excited. I’m girl! It me! I’m baby!”

Zoey reached out and ruffled my hair. I guess it was a playful gesture but all it did was make me want her to keep her hands on me for the rest of the night. Shit where did that come from? She’s speaking, pay attention you goober. Don’t get too obsessed with how nice her playing with your hair felt. “Well I feel like an occasion like this calls for a drink. I’ll make you something really nice. Don’t look, it’ll be a surprise.”

“Just not bourbon,” I squeaked, sounding more pathetic than I was feeling. “It’s just. So disgusting. It tastes like old shoe juice.”

She just nodded and gave me a light wink

“And no whiskey either. Which I know is like the same thing as bourbon but like. Also awful. Y’know. Like if you tried to make a drink out of the concept of pain.” 

She gave me a thumbs up and a quick “roger.” 

“And. And. And. No scotch. Pleaaaaase,” I really drew out the please. Because I’m like, pathetically adorable, she won’t think I’m annoying, god I hope I’m not being annoying. I’m way too cute now to be annoying right? That’s my new superpower, to be heart meltingly brain fryingly cute. You can never get mad at a cute girl who just realized that she was a girl.

Zoey laughed, which immediately set my rattling heart at ease. If she’s laughing that means she doesn’t hate my guts. Great job Andi. You’re crushing it. “Alright. I’ll whip you up one premium cocktail called ‘Andi’s Biggest Fear.’ It’ll be a shot of bourbon, a shot of whiskey, and a shot of scotch. AKA, three shots of whiskey you silly girl. Now shush, I think I know what a good gal like you would like.”

For a second I was going to come up with some witty comeback, until she placed a single finger on my lips and said “sshhh. Let me work.” There was something so incredibly powerful about a woman with that sheer level of confidence. It was overwhelmingly sexy, so I just sat back and let myself be overwhelmed. 

I tried my best not to watch her make the drink. Instead I just kept my eyes on my phone. Right there was a new text from my brother Josh. My mood instantly deflated a little bit, and dammit nothing was killing my mood. But I remember how embarrassed he looked when my parents went on the tirade and figured I owed him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m sorry that mom and dad acted like that sis. I can’t stand them sometimes. That was beyond rude and I’m sorry you were treated like that. Could we please have a private lunch tomorrow so we can actually talk to each other? I’ll always love you and be your little bro.” I shot back a quick “Love you too bro. Let’s go to Eds for Brunch at noon” and heard Zoey clearing her throat. Right. No time to get choked up over sibling acceptance. Compartmentalize those feelings for now, there was a drink for me to see.

What was sitting in front of me was one of the weirdest mixed drinks I had ever seen. It was a neon pink color sitting in a clear skull glass. The rim was sugared with some sort of pink solution (I’m noticing a theme here I believe) and it had a large variety of fancy umbrellas that had those watermelon sour patch candies speared through resting on the side of the glass. In between every umbrella there were those rainbow gummi strips that I ate all the time at the pool when I was a kid. They splayed off the side almost like octopus tentacles. Sitting right in the middle was a large rainbow-colored lollypop with “IT’S A GIRL!!” written in the most ridiculous curlicue font.

I looked up at Zoey and she had the biggest grin just plastered on her face. I wanted her to look at me like that every single day. Every time she looked at me it felt like the sensations continued to build more and more. I was already a blushing shy mess around her, how much worse could it get. She seemed to see that I was a loss for words so she said, “We had a gender reveal party last week and had a few of these left over. I feel like it fits.”

“Haha. Gender Reveal parties are. . .the worst. . . They set. . . everything on fiiiiiiiire.” For the second time today I started to cry. This time however big happy tears welled up in my eyes and the emotion of everything that I had gone through ran through me. I looked at Zoey and whispered “I love it. Thank you so much. I’d probably be a nervous wreck without you and Elle’s kindness last night.” Its true. Even though I had only known her for a day, she helped me feel comfortable with myself when I needed it most at dinner.

At that moment I just felt so overwhelmed. My body buzzed even though I hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol. I looked at her smile and concern and wanted nothing else but to keep looking at her for like. . . the rest of the night. And maybe beyond that.

At that moment, she leaned over the bar until she was just inches from my face. I could smell the earthy scent of her perfume, the smell of a forest after the rain. I looked into her eyes and just got lost for a moment. They were a beautiful green, shimmering in the low light of the bar. I had to get a closer look so I leaned in even more, a slow smile creeping up my mouth. My brain was on an emotional rollercoast. I was zipping between the sheer low spot of interacting with my parents to the high that I was feeling right now. The self confidence and happiness that was buzzing through me. Just staring at this beautiful woman who just happened to be looking at me like I was the prettiest girl in the world.

Then suddenly, before I knew it, we were kissing. It happened so fast, I was so wrapped up in the moment, I didn’t even realize I kissed back. It was like I was watching someone else move my body. But God did I feel it. Forget realizing that I was a girl. This kiss had to be at the top of my list of “best things that had happened today.” A light sigh escaped my lips. The taste of her lipstick lingered after she pulled back behind the bar.

She was blushing, finally I guess the shoe is on the other foot. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. I just. I like you Andi. And I’m sorry this has been so hard for you. But seeing you accept yourself and seeing your confidence grow in just a day, it’s been amazing. I know it’s one of those stereotypical things to say, but I’m proud of you cutie.” 

It was an intense chain reaction, her blushing lead to me blushing even more as I fumbled in the dark for something to say that wouldn’t make me look like the biggest moron on planet Earth, hell, in the Milky Way. “It’s, uh, okay. I don’t mind the kiss. In fact, kind of the opposite of minding. I uh. . . wouldn’t mind it if we did it again soon. But not now obviously because you’re at work and uh” To stop myself from making a further fool of myself I took a sip of my drink. It was delicious. I tasted some pineapple, almost a pink lemonaid mouthfeel? A citrus-islandy adventure mouthfeel? A real James Buffet Ballad could have been written about this delicious tropical treat. A balance of sweet and sour without even the hint of drinking alcohol, just the way I like it. How could she have ever guessed that I was a baby when it came to hard alcohol? Who knows? Who cares? It was beautiful and so was she.

DerbyGhost

She finally did it, gals and nonbinary pals. She is free of egggg. Also now I want a fancy mixed drink that tastes like sunshine and citrus.