I live in fear that I will receive an unexpected and unannounced visit from either my landlord or one of his little lackeys. Being a tranny I have to be careful that the detritus of femininity are not left lying around to give these small-minded handymen an idea of my true identity. It’s not that I am ashamed, quite the opposite. I just don’t want to give them the advantage of having that extra knowledge. So, over the years, I’ve learnt to keep things hidden and out of sight, just in case. However, I have become a little slack of late.
Last night I heard heavy knocking on my front door and my landlord, Mr Chan, was shouting my name. He is of Asian decent and pronounces my name “Mr Garasy”. Being a week night I was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, so no need for a quick change of clothes or removal of make up. His resident plumber, whose name is Riz, accompanied Chan. I do not know if it is just Riz or Mister Riz. I opt for calling him Mister Riz, it is more polite.
They had both arrived to investigate a possible leak emanating from my flat. Mister Riz entered my bathroom and began removing all my toiletries from the shelves so that he could get a good look at the various pipes. It was then that I realised I had left a couple of lipsticks, mascara and other items of make up on the shelf. “He’ll obviously believe they belong to a girlfriend,” thought I.
He did not find any offending pipes and moved on to the airing cupboard which houses my boiler and shower pump. With shock I saw him picking up a pair of size 11 high heels which I had inadvertently left in front of the door. He stopped and pondered them in their 6-inch PVC, strappy glory, giving me a sly look out of the corner of his eye. “He must imagine I have a short girlfriend with very big feet,” thought I.
Upon opening the airing cupboard his torch rested on two wigs that I had put in there to dry after washing. Our eyes met, I gave a small embarrassed smile and he turned away quickly. “He just assumes I have a bald, short, heavily made up, big-footed girlfriend.” He was looking very nervous as he got down on his hands and knees to examine the pipes. To try and assuage his panic I offered him a cup of tea.
“Tea Mister Riz?”
“No thank you, Mr Garazy, I have a wife.”
There was no leak.
4 Comments
Have you got a bald short heavily made-up big-footed girlfriend? Always the last to know, me, aren’t I?
Keep up Napoleon, you know I have a new girlfriend every other day - loads of em, coming out of the walls they are.
Hmmm. I wonder what he thought you meant by tea?
Jo, I think I threatened his preset concepts of sexuality, or perhaps he doesn’t like tea.