The next day at work was awkward as hell. Candace had accidentally let it slip about my crossdressing during lunch, and some of the other folks were pestering me to see the picture. At first it was pretty novel, girls complimenting my look and guys talking about how they’d never guess I was a guy based on the pic. But a couple of them were getting obnoxious about it, asking if I was ‘gonna go all the way,’ or ‘get the chop.’ They were insinuating they’d be willing to date me if I did. Y’know, if I was ‘fuckable.’ It was making it really hard to work and I could feel myself withdrawing, avoiding customers so I could focus on stocking or organizing.

Interestingly, it was Candace who put a stop to it. We were closing up for the night. I was feeling pretty squicked out by a lot of the comments I’d gotten, so I think it was pretty obvious to everyone how it was impacting me since I wasn’t making eye contact. I wouldn’t say I was normally a social butterfly or anything, but I was at least cordial. But now? Completely withdrawn. Between the shit with Jeff and the collective disrespect from my coworkers, I just wanted to call it and go home. Honestly, I didn’t need this crap.

“Alright, Thompson’s Hardware Staff! All-hands meeting! Every employee MUST attend. So get your butts over to Bathroom Fixtures. Now, please,” Candace’s voice insisted over the P.A.

Intrigued, I wandered over to the large displays of bathtubs, sinks, and toilets that dominated the center of the store to find Candace standing on top of a claw-footed marble monstrosity masquerading as a bathtub. As the rest of the employees filed into the space, our store manager, Rebecca, was nearby with her hands on her hips and a very disapproving expression on her face. I knew whatever this was, it was pretty big.

After Rebecca had completed a visual headcount of the employees on shift and nodded affirmatively, she raised her voice to say, “I know this is a hardware store. I know that there’s a lot of machismo tied up in building things and using power tools and demolishing walls for renovation. But this isn’t some chain store that feeds into the myth of the construction bro. This is THE largest family-owned and operated hardware store in the state of Illinois and we’re proud of that. We’re proud of treating our employees like people. We’re proud of taking care of each other.

“But SOME of you aren’t treating your coworkers very well. SOME of you are saying some pretty inappropriate things to and about your coworkers. I’ll admit, this isn’t my specialty. I’m just a tomboy that runs her daddy’s store for him. So I’m going to let Candace handle this next bit,” Rebecca continued as her gaze drifted between each pair of eyes in her audience.

Candace nodded. “Thanks, Rebecca.” She looked at me and smiled encouragingly.

“Today, I carelessly let some private information about one of our coworkers become known to the rest of you. It’s not fair to say it was a slip of the tongue or a lapse of judgment. I simply wasn’t thinking and blurted something out that was told to me in what was expected to be confidence. So the brunt of the blame lies with me. For that, I am very sorry.

“But this store has a non-discrimination policy that covers age, race, ethnicity, religion, gender identity, sexuality, and ability. The fact that some of you took this private information and used it to tease and bully one of your coworkers with sexually inappropriate comments is a violation of this policy and it WILL be addressed by management and HR. In the meantime, all rumors and gossip around this topic will cease immediately. If any further inappropriate comments are reported, they will be grounds for discipline up-to and including dismissal,” she read from a printed notice which she then held up for all to see.

“This will be posted in the break room and other common employee areas,” Candace said. “It is directly from HR and it has been written in response to today’s events.” 

I could sense several people looking toward me and it felt like my face was on fire. Never in a thousand years did I ever expect to be the object of the rumor mill, let alone the catalyst for a store meeting AND a policy notice. Could this day get any worse? 

No. Never think that. Never say it, but also don’t think it. Because it will get worse. Every. Time.

“Look, if this is about Mike’s crossdressing picture, I don’t think anyone meant anything bad by it,” muttered Ray from the lumber yard. “If anything, I’d say some of it was pretty complimentary. I mean, we were just saying that if he got the surgery or whatever, we’d be willing to…”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna stop you right there, Ray,” Rebecca called out. “See, that train of thought? We need to derail it. Our coworkers’ bodies should not be a topic of conversation, especially with regard to … private matters.”

Oh, fuck, just kill me now. Do I need to quit? I will quit. I could hear a few awkward snickers from among the other employees. Yeah, I definitely need to quit.

My embarrassment had reached its maximum and so had the overwhelming desire to empty my stomach on the lovely display of porcelain commodes near which I was standing. If I didn’t say something now, my anxiety was probably going to give me an ulcer.

“Look. I think we can officially dispense with the vague references. Yes, I cross-dressed. Yes, I took a picture of it. Yes, I showed it to Candace, and yes she mentioned it to a couple of you during lunch. Whether or not you find my crossdressing attractive, discussing my body like it’s something unrelated to me as a person is incredibly disrespectful. Frankly, it qualifies as sexual harassment and this whole ridiculous situation is enough to make me want to die of shame,” I said as forcefully as I could muster. 

“Whether or not I might be transgender, whether or not I decide to have any kind of surgery on the chance I happen to be transgender, that’s not an appropriate work discussion. So let’s just keep selling ropes, lube and hard wood to wanna-be house-flippers and local kinksters and leave my body and my looks out of it.”

My poor attempt at humor actually landed and elicited a few laughs from the store. I took this as a positive sign. 

“There you have it,” Rebecca said. “Now let’s all go home, process this meeting, and come back tomorrow ready to have a productive, harassment-free work day!” She looked directly at me and followed up with “Michael, before you go home, can I talk to you in my office?”

I sighed and nodded. I got a few curious looks from the people making their way out of the store as I trailed behind Rebecca to her private office near the front. I just shrugged apathetically and raised my eyebrows in response. I honestly didn’t know what Rebecca wanted to talk to me about, but I had a feeling it was going to be uncomfortable.

As we stepped inside, she motioned for me to take a seat in the plush office chair facing her desk as she slid into a mesh-backed ergonomic contraption that looked more like a torture device than a chair. “Okay, Michael, we’re just going to address the elephant in the room - are you planning on filing a harassment complaint?” Rebecca asked so matter-of-factly that I wasn’t sure at first that she was even asking a question.

“Oh! Uh, no. I don’t think that’s necessary. I don’t think anyone had any ill-intentions, and –”

“Did you feel uncomfortable?” she interrupted me. 

“Well, yeah, but…” I stammered awkwardly.

“Did it affect your job performance or your desire to continue working here?”

I sighed. “Yeah. I mean, I kinda just wanted to go home and avoid everyone until this all blew over.”

Rebecca folded her arms over her chest and leaned back (or tried to) in the bizarre non-Euclidean construct passing itself off as furniture. “I’m obliged to move forward with a formal complaint against those that were harassing you. If we don’t nip it in the bud now, they may continue to act out against you or any other person we hire who presents in a gender non-conforming fashion. Which is manager-speak for ‘I don’t really want to have to deal with this again in the future,’ if you catch my drift.”

I nodded numbly. This just felt like yet another thing in my life spiraling out of control and I didn’t really have the stomach to deal with it.

Rebecca surprised me then by asking, “May I see the picture that everyone has been discussing?”

With the practiced ease of the day’s repetition, I slipped my phone out of my pocket, opened the gallery app, and brought up the picture I had taken of myself as “Lauren” before turning the phone to face my boss.

She smiled. “It looks good. Really natural. Whoever did your makeup knew how to bring out your best features,” Rebecca admitted. “Do you think you’d ever want to come to work like that?”

“What? No, I mean, this is work and I need to look professional, and honestly our customers take me more seriously as a guy…” I blurted out.

Rebecca burst out laughing. “Boy, you’re not kidding about that last part! Do you know how many times I’ve been dealing with guys here just to have them ask to see my boss? How many dudes have talked down to me because I’m ‘just a woman’ so I wouldn’t understand? I may not be the best at HR, but I’m a damn good store manager and I know every product under our roof forwards and backwards!

“But if you decide that this photo is how you want to present yourself at work, just let me know and we’ll make it happen. We really appreciate the work you do here and while I know you don’t plan on making a career out of this store, I want to make sure we keep you as long as you’re okay working with us. As you know, we have unisex restrooms at the front and rear of the store, so you’re welcome to use those instead of the gendered ones. And hell, we could use some more women on the team, if I’m being honest. Not a lot apply here,” Rebecca continued earnestly. 

“Anyway, if it’s a non-issue, don’t worry about it. I just wanted to let you know that our store policies are completely LGBTQ-inclusive and we don’t tolerate harassment in any form. I’ll be talking with Doug in HR when he comes in first thing tomorrow so we can proceed with the complaints. In the meantime, if anyone else says anything that makes you feel uncomfortable at work, please bring it to me or Doug, okay Michael?”

Rebecca was being so nice and understanding and all I wanted to say was, “I’m not trans! I just cross-dressed as part of a bet and did it again to get closer to a girl I like!” but of course that would just raise even more questions. Instead, I just nodded and asked, “Is it cool if I head home, now? I’m feeling a bit more tired than usual.”

Rebecca looked at the clock and blinked in surprise. “Oh, certainly! And don’t worry, I’ll round out your timecard for a full quarter hour to accommodate this meeting.” She paused for a moment, weighing her next words. “One last thing…”

“Yeah?” I responded, curious as to what she had in mind.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I wish I looked half as good as you do when you’re dressed up.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I looked Rebecca up and down. She had shiny dark hair cut into a chin-length bob and slightly narrow brown eyes with a cutely-round face. Her muscular body was set onto a slightly thicker frame which didn’t look at all out of proportion with her height - she stood about two inches taller than myself. The store uniform wasn’t particularly flattering on her body. Black polyester slacks and a fitted green polo shirt didn’t do much for anyone, honestly. On me, it just emphasized how scrawny I was.

Uncertain how best to respond, I blurted out the truth as I saw it. “I never see you wear anything other than the work uniform, so I have no idea how you look when you’re dressed up. I think you have a good canvas to work with, though. If you want, I can ask my sister’s advice? She was the one who did my makeup for me.”

For the first time ever, I saw my manager look a little shy. “Uh, you don’t have to. But if you wanted to, I wouldn’t say no?”

“Sure,” I laughed, holding up my phone. “Let me get a picture of your face and I’ll show Maggie when I get home.”