The transgender foot soldier struggles with a parcel, but not his gender identity.
I bought this gorgeous retro rockabilly dress online. I also ordered an ultra-poofy petticoat to make the skirt billow out.
It’s a need, not a want. A boy in the jungle has to look his best.
But as any foot soldier will tell you, there’s no room for slip-ups in the jungle.
And slip up I did.
I put my girl name on the website when I placed the order. It seemed a good idea at the time. After all, it’s for the girl in me. What would a boy want with a dress?
As it turned out, I wasn’t home when my parcel arrived, and they left me a note. More precisely, they left ‘Belinda Joseph’ a note.
Trouble is: legally, there is no Belinda Joseph.
Like any good soldier, I went to the post office prepared for an ambush.
My enemy behind the counter was a young Asian guy. A nice enough man; we’ve chatted before. Sure he was a federal agency employee, but I wouldn’t hold that against him.
Casually, I approached the counter and handed him the collection note. He rummaged through some boxes, then turned to me with my parcel.
So close, so damned close.
“This Belinda Joseph,” he said, “I will need to see some ID for her”.
Curse him and his arbitrary book of unknowable rules!
I had no choice. He had called my bluff. But like I said, I came prepared.
I stripped naked, slipped into bra and knickers, stockings and a summer dress so gorgeous as to woo anyone with a heartbeat – male or female.
Heels, wig, necklace and bracelets. Full make-up.
I was hot. I was smouldering. Lust trailed in my every step. The lid on the post office blew right off.
Seductively, I leaned across the counter and kissed my nemesis on the cheek.
I was Belinda Joseph. No words needed to be spoken.
The roof on the post office fell back into place. I grabbed my parcel and minced out.
Once more, the transgender foot soldier had prevailed.
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Next time ... the transgender foot soldier becomes the fat girl in 'Heathers'.