Nicki: Answers and questions

I mentioned last week that I had to cut shot my writing because I was getting ready for something. Many people guessed correctly if they thought it was for "a date."

After getting turned down by Cherrie, I had to drown my sorrows. Here I was, this miserable half-girl, just trying to come into her own, and instead getting rejected and more or less out on the street. I had gradually moved more and more of my Nicki stuff into Cherrie's apartment, and now I'm awkwardly back on Traci's couch with whatever I have left. So I needed a drink. Or really, three drinks. To start with.

"Long time no see," as I downed that third pint. Feeling a fuzz around my eyes I figured someone was just mistaking me for Traci (it still happens every now and again.) I turned to enlighten the person, but found I vaguely recognized him.

His name is Chris and he has the distinction of being the first guy to ever actively hit on me since becoming a woman (*let's not get into it, but there had been mix-ups when I was a guy.) Feeling vulnerable and alone that night, I let him walk me home but tried my best not to lead him on. But here I was back at the same bar as that night, throwing them back like nobody's business and with a little bit of tear-smudged make-up. He sat across from me and asked if there was anything wrong. I proceeded to lay it all out, glossing over a few key details, which left him with a few questions.

He attempted to summarize: "You slept with your roommate, a guy, and then tried to go out with your hairdresser, a woman? Wow."

"I guess it makes more sense when you know the whole story," I admitted, laughing a bit to myself. I was getting very good at explaining matters. So I just came out with it. "I was swapped a few months ago, to this body, and I'm finally getting around to not fighting with it."

"With what?" he asked curiously. For a lot of people, the experience of speakingto a swapee is still unknwon.

"With this body! With it's urges and impulses, it's likes and dislikes..." I took a swig of beer, "With its drink preferences! Everything it wants to do and be and for me to do to it, how to eat, how to walk, how to do my hair... I hat eit sometimes, but sometimes..." I cringed imagining my one night with Traci, "Sometimes it feels so god damn right! I used to be a man, Chris. I might as well just let it all out there. I didn't ask for it, but someone made me into it, and I've gotta like it or just sit around hating everything."

With a typical male disbelief, he asked, "So you like being a woman?"

I rolled my head trying to loosed my neck and shoulders, "Man. Woman. If I've learned anything, it's that life's too short to put up a fight, you are who they make you. Whoever they are, I don't know. But somebody's at the switch. It could happen to you, bro. And you know what? Odds are heavy you'd like it after a few months too. And does that make me gay? No sir! It makes me a damn straight woman, or at least bi." Keep in mind this was all drunken rambling. "But I'll tell you a secret. Hope it doesn't weird you out. I kinda like you."

He grinned. "You make a damn smooth woman, Nicki. I'm almost not weirded out."

I smiled at him and leaned back. Then I fondled my tits a bit and told him, "If you wanna take me out some night, I'll let you see."

Given the genuineness of my femininity, I doubted a man could resist. And I was right. A few nights later he called and that night last week, we went out.

In a probably-not-great first date for a man and an ex-male, we saw Knocked up. It made me uncomfortable to see femaleness all out ther eon the screen and know he'd be comparing me, but I tried to put it out of my mind, not hard given how funny it was. At the end of the night, he took me to the door of Traci's building.

I looked at him and read his mind. I told him, "You want to come up."

He admitted, "A little bit. But I don't think we're ready."

I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Just kiss me then." I know that, when I was a man, I'd rather a woman be so straightforward, off-putting as it might be.

So he kissed me. It was nothing special, but not a cold fish either. So we're going out again this weekend. Before long, who knows?

And everytime I think I've got the answers... somebody changes the questions.