Friday, February 23, 2007

"Yeah, That's right! That be my V'-Jay-Jay!"

So I finished with my one surgery of the day today and, having tried to grow my hair out for the past 7 weeks, decided this is nuts, I hate the long hair, and I need to just get it cut back to by usual, short cut. Happily, my barber is only 4 blocks from the surgery center where I operate over in Gramercy Park.

For those of you who don't know, New York City can be a VERY block-by-block kind of place. For example. the surgery center is on 22nd Street and 2nd Avenue. My barber is on 26th Street off of 2nd Avenue. FOUR WHOLE CITY BLOCKS. But they're worlds apart. Not that 26th and 2nd is a bad neighborhood by any stretch of the imagination. But across the street is low-income housing units and that changes the neighborhood feel, north of 23rd Street.

So it was 9:30 in the morning and I was walking in the cold wind. At 25th Street, I'm waiting to cross at the green light, and as I approach I see this Lesbian couple holding hands. They're yelling at this homeless man. Mind you, they look like they might be homeless too. Very sad.

Anyway, I get closer and notice that one of the lesbians was born a woman and the other looks as though she chose to be a woman. She had too much make-up on a face that looked more masculine than that of most men I know. The transexual lesbian is yelling at this homeless man, " I am more of a woman than you'll ever get!"

He was mumbling and yelling back at her, "You're a freak. You're not a woman. You're a man who cut his penis off. What kind of freak man cuts his penis off and dresses up in dress-up like his mommy? You're a freak."

I was getting really, really angry with him and about to step in when the transexual lesbian, taller and bigger than this ignorant homeless man defended herself. "Oh yeah???" she said to him. At that moment, on the corner of 25th and 2nd Avenue, at 9:30 this morning, she pulled up her wait-length down jacket with one hand, and with the other, she grabbed her stretch-pants and undies and pulled them down and there was what plastic surgery shows on The Learning Channel usually fuzz-out: The labia and vagina of a post-operative, transexual female. She screamed while all the people around (myself included) started to walk away) "Yeah, That's right! That be my V'-Jay-Jay!"

I have to say, professionally speaking, she had a great surgeon.

And with that, I went to get my haircut.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

"I Saw The Sign"

No, sadly this is not about the famous 90's Ace Of Base pop hit song.

Last Wednesday, while home sick with the flu, I had to get to the bank to make a take payment. So Michael was nice enough to go with me. On our way home, we ran into our Dog Walker, Jose in front of our building. A word on him:

We call him Tardo. That's because it's not politically correct to call someone "retard". But "Tardo"-- it's sweet. Because he is sweet. He is a pure soul, gentle heart, is totally in love with all the dogs he takes care of, and he also happens to be dumber than a box of rocks.

Anyway, we ran into him in front of our building. He was off last week, as I was home sick. So he asked, "Hi guys. How are you feeling?"
I said, "Pretty sick, but thanks for asking. I needed to go to the bank, so that's the only reason I came out in the cold..." hoping that he'd take the hint and let us go so I could get back into the warm apartment and lay down again.

Michael asked, "How are you doing?" being polite. This opened the floodgates.

"Oh, I'm suffering this Valentine's Day. I don't have a love, and I don't know... but... you know what? This guy-- Okay, you guys tell me what you think-- this guy, he's a doorman and I sort of have a crush on him."

I cut him off, "Not one of the doormen in our building?" Because they are a) unattractive and b) unavailable (i.e., taken or straight).

"No. Not your building." he said, "He's in one of the other buildings where I go everyday."

At this point, I was freezing and just wanted him to leave. But Tardo went on.

"I really like him and I think he likes me but, I don't know, He's giving me mixed SINE-als."

I thought to myself, "Wait, did he just say that? 'SINE-als'? Not signals? Nah... I just heard him wrong. After all, I'm in pain out here in the cold, running a fever... it must be me and my ears."

But I looked over at Michael and he was giving me that same look. We both had heard the same thing. But in that unspoken communication that couples can do, we just agreed to let it go.

Tardo went on, "I mean. I think he likes me, but I can't be sure."

I tried to wrap this puppy up, "Well, if you ever see him drinking coffee or tea, then you can bring him a cup of it one day. That way, it's a small gesture, doesn't mean too much, but it's a way of discretely letting him know you like him, you're paying attention to him, and see what he does in response."

Tardo kind of brushed off my suggestion, re-iterating himself, "But I don't know..." in that artificially whiney high-school girlish tone, "One minute I really think he likes me and the next, I don't know. I mean, I'm not stupid. This guy is sending me mixed SINE-als."

Michael and I both just bursted out laughing. There was no recovery from that second hit.