Man skirts are apparently in...
Yesterday, I boarded the jeep from Philcoa to UP and found that there was only one spot to be filled before the jeep left. Because I was already late I took it and tried to squeeze my big ass between two people sitting down. The person to my right was wearing the uniform of the all girls’ university right next to ours, and I noticed because she seemed to be occupying a lot of space. My gaze absent-mindedly flitted from her green skirt, to her sheer blouse to her...
What the crap, MANLY face! I did a double take because it was a guy wearing a girl’s uniform sitting right beside me!
Alright, maybe I was jumping to conclusions, and she really was a girl. Maybe that very visible line of hair above her upper lip just might be because of her family trait of hairy-ness. Who am I to judge if she didn’t want to shave it? It might have been too much effort. And what do I care if she was just extremely butch and sat like a truck driver with legs apart and the folds of her voluminous skirt all gathered between her legs? So what if she was quite stocky for a girl, had really broad shoulders, and was wearing a baseball cap backwards on top of her short curly hair...
That’s still normal right? And even her man-like mannerisms of cracking her knuckles and tapping her humongous black construction-worker boots were forgivable...
Wait, who am I kidding?
It was a choice between the fact that he was a man, or a really ugly girl built like my grandmother's cabinet. I don't think that nature could be that cruel and stripped her of everything feminine. So when I got off my stop to board the second jeep, she was walking behind me, I sneaked a glance just to see how she really looked like without the “zoom in” view I had of her from before. Holy shit, what a swagger this "girl" had.
Imagine Vince McMahon dressed like a schoolgirl walking towards you and that’s how it would seem like. And I hate to criticize (well, not really. I LOVE to criticize), but there were no visible humps underneath that blouse! I could forgive A cup on a really big girl, but the nearest thing I spied were ugly man-boobs and that doesn't count at all, does it? Was that really a man in a girls’ uniform?
So I boarded the jeep before she, damn he, no, she, no, he, screw it, IT did, and I watched him/her clumsily sit beside me again. And the weird thing was, the uncoordinated way this person just stumblingly entered the jeep was what gave it away.
Women, no matter how big or butch they are, still at least have some semblance of grace and coordination in their bodies, and especially a woman (supposedly) of that person’s age. When he got in, EVERYONE automatically stared at him and the same as me, tried to decipher why in God’s name this big lumbering oaf would dress up as a catholic all girls’ student and didn’t even try to hide his maleness? Even cross-dressers try their best to be able to carry what feminine clothing they don, and this guy wasn't even trying to be subtle with his masculinity.
After a couple of minutes, he had spoken to someone and said, “Hey, could you move a little so we can sit better?”, and he had the kind of voice that belonged to a prankster, a loud-mouthed guy.
There he was, sitting right beside me, looking like he was simply begging for ridicule (people were snorting when they saw him) and I was... well, dying of curiosity. Did he lose a bet? Was he doing this as a joke? Was this his way of proving his love for his girlfriend who studied there? Just when the jeep was starting, unable to hold my curiosity any longer, I turned to him and asked the line that’s been running through my mind ever since I saw his get-up.
“What’s up with the skirt?”
He blinked at me a couple of times, as if it had never occurred to him why on earth anybody would ask that. After the are-you-stupid look I suffered through, he self-consciously tugged on the skirt’s material with his fingers. There and then, I noticed how unmanly his hands were. I remembered someone telling me you can definitely tell the gender of a person from the hand. And his hands? They were chubby and smooth, like mine, no veins or calluses, Girl Hands. They looked like girl hands. I raised my eyes to his face and he finally answered my question like he had to think about it. He said “SCHOOL.... STUDENT.” Whilst he was holding his pretty little skirt. I merely nodded, but it was without comprehension.
Maybe he was retarded. He was obviously telling me that he was a student of that all girls’ school. Then again, maybe I was the retarded one, for even asking him that question. Good thing I didn’t add “DUDE” to my query. He was a girl after all?
My eyes wandered to his back and I could tell he wore absolutely no bra. Why would he if he was a HE!! He wore one of those sandos with tiny holes in them; only a man would wear that kind of wife-beater. I even tried to look at his throat, but his chubbiness hindered me from distinguishing the final evidence that would tell me if he was a man or not.
Where's your Adam's apple, goddamnit! It occurred inside my head to accost him and demand, “No breasts. Why are you even wearing a skirt and claiming to be a student? Do you have a vagina?!” but decided against it, which was probably the smart thing to do because who knows what those girly fists could be capable of.
He finally got down the jeep, not in front of his (supposed) all girls’ university, but went inside some dorm or restaurant with that trademark strut that only males could possess. I shook my head and told myself he was probably looking for some trouble and got his kicks out of cross-dressing and killing people with curiosity.
I looked at the old lady in front of me who had been staring at the pseudo-woman man for the whole length of the ride. I grinned and she returned it, motioning to the cross-dressing guy who just got down. Her pronouncement?
"Crazy!"
Hey, whatever floats his boat, I don't really care. He just made my otherwise boring day quite interesting.
What the crap, MANLY face! I did a double take because it was a guy wearing a girl’s uniform sitting right beside me!
Alright, maybe I was jumping to conclusions, and she really was a girl. Maybe that very visible line of hair above her upper lip just might be because of her family trait of hairy-ness. Who am I to judge if she didn’t want to shave it? It might have been too much effort. And what do I care if she was just extremely butch and sat like a truck driver with legs apart and the folds of her voluminous skirt all gathered between her legs? So what if she was quite stocky for a girl, had really broad shoulders, and was wearing a baseball cap backwards on top of her short curly hair...
That’s still normal right? And even her man-like mannerisms of cracking her knuckles and tapping her humongous black construction-worker boots were forgivable...
Wait, who am I kidding?
It was a choice between the fact that he was a man, or a really ugly girl built like my grandmother's cabinet. I don't think that nature could be that cruel and stripped her of everything feminine. So when I got off my stop to board the second jeep, she was walking behind me, I sneaked a glance just to see how she really looked like without the “zoom in” view I had of her from before. Holy shit, what a swagger this "girl" had.
Imagine Vince McMahon dressed like a schoolgirl walking towards you and that’s how it would seem like. And I hate to criticize (well, not really. I LOVE to criticize), but there were no visible humps underneath that blouse! I could forgive A cup on a really big girl, but the nearest thing I spied were ugly man-boobs and that doesn't count at all, does it? Was that really a man in a girls’ uniform?
So I boarded the jeep before she, damn he, no, she, no, he, screw it, IT did, and I watched him/her clumsily sit beside me again. And the weird thing was, the uncoordinated way this person just stumblingly entered the jeep was what gave it away.
Women, no matter how big or butch they are, still at least have some semblance of grace and coordination in their bodies, and especially a woman (supposedly) of that person’s age. When he got in, EVERYONE automatically stared at him and the same as me, tried to decipher why in God’s name this big lumbering oaf would dress up as a catholic all girls’ student and didn’t even try to hide his maleness? Even cross-dressers try their best to be able to carry what feminine clothing they don, and this guy wasn't even trying to be subtle with his masculinity.
After a couple of minutes, he had spoken to someone and said, “Hey, could you move a little so we can sit better?”, and he had the kind of voice that belonged to a prankster, a loud-mouthed guy.
There he was, sitting right beside me, looking like he was simply begging for ridicule (people were snorting when they saw him) and I was... well, dying of curiosity. Did he lose a bet? Was he doing this as a joke? Was this his way of proving his love for his girlfriend who studied there? Just when the jeep was starting, unable to hold my curiosity any longer, I turned to him and asked the line that’s been running through my mind ever since I saw his get-up.
“What’s up with the skirt?”
He blinked at me a couple of times, as if it had never occurred to him why on earth anybody would ask that. After the are-you-stupid look I suffered through, he self-consciously tugged on the skirt’s material with his fingers. There and then, I noticed how unmanly his hands were. I remembered someone telling me you can definitely tell the gender of a person from the hand. And his hands? They were chubby and smooth, like mine, no veins or calluses, Girl Hands. They looked like girl hands. I raised my eyes to his face and he finally answered my question like he had to think about it. He said “SCHOOL.... STUDENT.” Whilst he was holding his pretty little skirt. I merely nodded, but it was without comprehension.
Maybe he was retarded. He was obviously telling me that he was a student of that all girls’ school. Then again, maybe I was the retarded one, for even asking him that question. Good thing I didn’t add “DUDE” to my query. He was a girl after all?
My eyes wandered to his back and I could tell he wore absolutely no bra. Why would he if he was a HE!! He wore one of those sandos with tiny holes in them; only a man would wear that kind of wife-beater. I even tried to look at his throat, but his chubbiness hindered me from distinguishing the final evidence that would tell me if he was a man or not.
Where's your Adam's apple, goddamnit! It occurred inside my head to accost him and demand, “No breasts. Why are you even wearing a skirt and claiming to be a student? Do you have a vagina?!” but decided against it, which was probably the smart thing to do because who knows what those girly fists could be capable of.
He finally got down the jeep, not in front of his (supposed) all girls’ university, but went inside some dorm or restaurant with that trademark strut that only males could possess. I shook my head and told myself he was probably looking for some trouble and got his kicks out of cross-dressing and killing people with curiosity.
I looked at the old lady in front of me who had been staring at the pseudo-woman man for the whole length of the ride. I grinned and she returned it, motioning to the cross-dressing guy who just got down. Her pronouncement?
"Crazy!"
Hey, whatever floats his boat, I don't really care. He just made my otherwise boring day quite interesting.