There’s a woman in the park I could have sworn I knew, but just couldn’t place her. Every day I racked my brain trying to think, where do I know her from.
I ran into another person who jostled my memory because I realized, this woman reminded me of a fellow we both know. Could have easily been his sister.
When Adelaide told me, John was now Joanne, I almost fell over.
“Whaddya mean? I mean, whaddya mean?”
“He’s a woman now.”
“Ya mean, he had like, a Bruce Jenner moment?”
“Something like that. Claims he always knew he wasn’t the man he thought he was.”
“Well, that’s certainly putting it in a nut shell.”
I then remembered how he tried to woo me, way back when, inviting me to his townhouse for afternoon tea. He was proper to a fault, in his Brooks Brothers button-down with extremely slim trousers pressed like gabardine hams.
I was quite attracted to him and his monogramed cufflinks and starched collars that he wore, now that I think about it, up, like Dorothy Malone in Peyton Place. There was also his hair that was always a bit too wild and bushy. I’d tease him about it…said he looked like a Breck Girl. No wonder he kept pouring me more tea.
“Did he go all the way? Ya know, remove then install? take off and…”
“I think it’s in the making. He’s been on hormones so he’s gotten quite curvy.”
“Yes, I noticed that in his, I mean, her bike shorts. Of course now the question is, do I let on we know each other?”
John/Joanne has never stopped to say hello. The most I’ve gotten at 7 a.m. has been a sly, sleepy side glance.
“Will we have to be re-introduced?”
“I’d wait if I were you,” suggested Adelaide.”
“He’s thinking of now changing his name to Zora.”