A Series of Unfortunate Events

I sighed as I sat on the corner bench.
Waiting for the man who had called earlier.
Asking for sex.
Paying me for sex.

It had been like this for a while.
Ever since I had my sex change.
Ever since I turned ‘female’, I guess.
No one wants to hire a transsexual, I mean, who would.
To most people, it’s disgusting.
You should be proud of who and what you are.
You shouldn’t change that.
Not ever.

But I did.
I changed myself to being a girl.
I still don’t know if I would actually be a girl or a boy, as I naturally am a boy.

I sighed and pulled my coat closer to my body, covering the short skirt I had on.
It wasn’t doing very much to keep me warm, and neither were the net tights.

No one will hire me, well not as a proper job.
No one wants a ‘heshe’ working for them.
No one wants a transsexual person working for them.
Again, why would they?
It’s wrong.
It’s unnatural.

A man stood in front of me now.
His hands in his front pockets – looking shy.
I looked up at him.
“Andy Jones?” I asked.
He nodded.
Obviously new to hiring prostitutes.
He looked like he was in his forties.
His wife probably just left him and he was in need of a bit of cheering up.
Oh well, that’s the only job I can get.

I am the prostitute working on the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual.

Part Three complete