Boy

It happened to me a lot when we crossed the bridge, the customs guy would ask about the "little boy." Part of why I wanted long hair, not that it helped. My mother sided with them, far worse, she told me, to call a boy a girl than to call a girl a boy. I disagreed. Especially considering how vehement she would get about my being called a "cute little boy" when an infant, dressed in the frilliest bonnets my mother could find for her "only girl." She never quite understood the connection, clear as day to me.

As I got older, I became more comfortable with my rather androgynous appearance, in no small part due to my taste for utilitarian clothing. I haven't got any overt girlyness to speak of. Nor am I boyish, though. A somewhat lesbian look, so I came to surmise. Not intentional, and although not accurate, understandable.

Today, the guy who does the car emissions/inspections, greeted me with "Good morning, young man... oh."



"Nope, Old lady," I corrected him, without rancor.



Not the sharpest spoon in the drawer, not paying attention, I managed a slight, half-eye roll. Whatever. In jeans and t-shirt, baseball cap, sure, I'm not obviously anything. Not the first time, won't be the last, but it has been quite a while. Most people avoid committing themselves, just say "good morning" before insisting on a gender. Didn't used to be that way, or wasn't for me as a kid.

It's not a binary thing, though, gender. And I've never been "all girl." As I get older, I suspect this will happen more often. Invisibility sets in, which suits me fine.

Most people just don't think.