In the Best Damn Dress I Own

I awoke alone the next morning. Frank had left to get some groceries early, and I just wanted to lay in bed. My ass hurt so much from what had happened the previous night. I knew I had to get up though, so I could go have coffee with Erika.

When I finally dragged myself from underneath the plushy covers, it was noon and I only had an hour to take a shower, eat, and meet Erika at Starbucks. This was going to be hell.

I took my shower as quickly as possible, cutting my legs twice in the haste of shaving them. I blow-dried my hair, not bothering to straighten it. Applying my make-up, I messed up the eyeliner and I had to re-do it. After I was done with my bathroom routine, I waltzed into the bedroom, throwing cloths in every direction. I finally found some camouflage, cargo pants. I found my “The Smiths” shirt, and threw that over top of the bra I was now wearing, stuffed with Kleenex.

My phone was lying on the coffee-table, along with a muffin the Frank had courteously laid out for me before he left. Grabbing the muffin and phone, I sprinted out the door. I hailed a cab while taking a enormous bite out of the muffin. Normally, it would have taken me ages to hail a cab dressed as a man. But, being a dressed as a woman had its advantages, and a cab pulled up to the curb as soon as I had raised my manicured hand.

“Where to?” the driver of the cab queried. He was bald, and looked suspiciously like Vin Diesel.

“Starbucks.” There was only one Starbucks around for miles, so the utterly sexy driver nodded his head. I kept my eyes on the road, but couldn’t help to steal glances at the hot cab driver. Was my life becoming a soap opera? It sure felt that way.

About seven minutes later we arrived at my destination. I pulled out a ten dollar bill from my pocket, telling the driver to keep the change. I made a mental comment saying that he deserved it for being so damned attractive.

Walking into Starbucks, I spied Erika right away. She was wearing a “Marilyn Manson” tee shirt. She wore Tripp paints, chains hanging from the sides. Seated on the table was a Skelanimals backpack, and the famous, plain Starbucks coffee cup.

“Hey,” I announced, sitting down in the chair across from her. She looked up at me, her eyes wide. Then, her eyes returned to normal size when she realized it was just me.

“Hey Gerard.” She smiled a hundred watt smile and I couldn’t help but return the favor. Her smile faded and she moved on. “I guess you’re wondering why I wanted to talk to you, aren’t you.” I nodded my head.

“Well, I think I your beautiful.” My eyes grew wide. She thought I was beautiful? Didn’t she get that I was gay as gay could possibly ever be?

“Erika, wh-why do you think I'm beautiful?” That wasn’t what I wanted to ask, but it bought me enough to put words together in my mind.

“I don’t know. I knew I was bisexual for the longest time, and, I just felt my heart beat faster when I was around you.” She blushed and I shook my head. This was just so much to comprehend.

“But, how could you ever love a monster like me? I’m a….I’m a freak,” I concluded, the realization hitting me full force. I was a freak, a monster of nature. No one should love me, let alone two of the most beautiful, selfless people on the planet.

Erika’s hand reached over, caressing my face. I pulled away, ashamed of what I had just realized that I was. It had never bothered me before, wanting to be a woman, dressing like a woman, acting like a woman, talking like a woman. Now, it just all seemed so wrong, so vile.

“Gerard, you’re not a monster. You’re not a freak. You are perfect.” I snorted at her foolishness. Perfect. What did she know about perfect? She had never seen perfection, nor had anyone else.

“I wanted to tell you something.” I looked into her eyes. They were distant and worried. What could possibly be worse than little transvestite me? “I wanted you to know that I love you. I love you more than any other person could. I want you to know that I don’t care whether you’re a man or a woman. It doesn’t matter just as long as I have you. I just want to hold you in my arms.” Had she really just said that? Her voice had become so powerful, so demanding.

“But, I love Frank. You saw him there. I love him.” I muttered, almost ashamed to admit it. Why was I so ashamed when he was so wonderful to me?

“But, don’t you see Gerard? I could love you so much better than him! I could love you with all my heart, and never, ever make you feel inferior! And we could have sex. We could have normal sex!”

My heart skipped a beat at the last sentence. I felt my cheeks grow red in the rage I felt ripping through my veins.

“Normal? Normal? What the fuck is normal about me? What the fuck do you think is normal about this?” I screamed, pointing to my fake breasts. She sank down into her chair, her power leaving her eyes.

“I just thought-“

“You just thought what? You just thought that you could change this? You just thought that you could make me leave Frank? Well I’ve got news for you! I am gay as those fucking rainbow socks we saw at Spencer’s. And you know what else? I’m tired of being something that I’m not!” I screamed, flinging wads of Kleenex all over the table. People began staring at me, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was making Erika realize that she couldn’t change me.

“Well, maybe you should just leave the pageant and stay home. Why don’t you just be the perfect little house mother, or whatever you call it? Why don’t you just stay home so you can screw that midget boyfriend of yours every goddamn night!”

“Frank isn’t a midget, but I’d be happier have “abnormal” sex with him than I would having “normal” sex with you! In fact, we screwed last night, and he was great!” I saw the pain flash across her face.

Suddenly, the manager of the Starbucks, dressed in a green apron, walked over to us.

“Excuse me ladies, but, your disturbing the rest of the restaurant. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Her voice was calm, and it was soothing to hear after all the yelling that had commenced.

“That’s fine, I was just going,” I replied before turning on my heel, heading toward the door.

“You know what, on second thought, maybe I will tell Evaleen about your little problem.” The words came crashing down on me like ton of bricks. She had promised not to, hadn’t she?

“And on second thought, maybe you should go find some blond hooker to get your mind off this fine piece of ass,” I said before waltzing out the door, trying my best to feel as though I’d won.

This wasn’t over yet, not if Erika had any say in the matter.