Whining: My Usual

I am a man who has been mistaken for a woman many times over. When I was a boy my friends and I acted out scenes from our favorite adventure books. The ragtag group of heroes and heroines was made up of two boys, two girls, a hawk and an alien. They were racially diverse, sort of. Marco was of Hispanic descent and Cassie was African-American. I, being half African-American, was picked to be Cassie. No, it wasn't because of my skin color. It was because of my girlish features... and skin color. At the time, I was going through my "girls have cooties" phase and was deeply perturbed by my casting as a female. Little did I know this was only the beginning.*

Throughout my life I have been mistaken for a girl, eventually I grew to love it. That is, I grew to love it when I deigned to doll myself up.

Today, I was at the store picking up coffee for my dad. While checking out I realized I didn't need the candy I had brought up and told the elderly lady I wouldn't be needing the sugary treats. She had already scanned them. She called her manager up and said, "She decided she didn't want the snacks. Can you cancel them?" I thought she had misspoke until she followed up with, "I guess her sweet tooth wasn't up for it, huh?" She dropped me a knowing wink. I am, by nature, an non-confrontational guy. So, I let it slide. As I walked back to my car, I realized something. I had been wearing baggy jeans from my fat middle school years, a black tank top and a large blue/black flannel coat. Today had been one of the few days I dressed like a "guy" and it ended in me being mistaken for having female genitalia yet again. I was irritated, to say the least.

I wrote this pointless anecdote solely for the sake of writing.*

Anyways, Rainbow Dash bless.*