Attack of the transphobic loo 17 Oct 2015
Changing gender in a public toilet seemed easy enough. It started well, but it just got worse.
I’m walking towards the entrance of the local library. My dress flutters in the breeze.
I’ve come here with a plan: to sneak into the toilet and change from female to male. The library has a gender-neutral disabled toilet. So I feel okay going in as one sex and coming out as the other.
But oh no, what’s going on!? There are three smiling librarians waiting to great everyone at the door. Curse you local council with a bloated budget!
So I’m seen and spotted. Where’s the awkward transphobia when you need it? Couldn’t they have averted their gaze from me and left me to sneak into the toilets in peace.
Change of plan!
I weigh my options. Only one place to go: the silver pay toilet on the corner of two main roads.
It’s small and damp. The floor is covered in something wet.
I push the green button and the door closes. A male voice overhead welcomes me, but with an ominous warning: ‘After ten minutes the door will automatically open’.
Oh great! This could get ugly: shoes, wig, dress, stockings, bra, other not-to-be-named undergarments – not to mention earrings, bracelets, make-up. It’s all gotta come off!
It’s hard going, but I make good time. Feels like about seven minutes in.
I need to wash my hands. I’m about to activate the sensor-driven tap when a sign above the grubby basin warns me: ‘Once water is activated, the toilet will auto-clean’.
So, the last words I expect to hear as I die from humiliation, my knickers around my ankles, is a little kid crying to her mother on the street: ‘Look Mum, that funny man in a dress is having a shower!’
Suffice to say, the door automatically opens just as I’m packing away the last of my lingerie items.
A swift, nick-of-time change. I step into the daylight, the cool sun across my face. In walked a girl, out walked a boy. Society: eat my panties.
Subscribe for free here