So I should probably go ahead and file this one under "reasons I love New York." My bff Dave has a keen fascination with trannies. He loves their wigs and their scruffy 5 o'clock shadows but mostly he just loves saying the word "tranny" in a jewish mother accent. What can I say, just a normal day at our office. His friend sent him this story and I had to share. Trannnnyy.
I was on the brooklyn-bound A train last thursday night, and a sassy black tranny got on at 42nd street. he crept on wearing a wig, tank top, leggings, and high heels, trailing a little rolly suitcase behind him, and nestled himself down into the seat closest to the end of the car. when the train started pulling away, he let out a sigh and slowly pulled off his wig to reveal a wrinkly bald little head. he stuffed the wig into a plastic bag, and unzipped the top of his suitcase.
he began pulling out some clothing, including a pair of rugged timberland boots. i watched to my astonishment as he pulled a pair of slacks on over the leggings and a nicely ironed and creased white button-up shirt over the tanktop. people were glancing, but not really paying any attention or mind to the situation. it was as if this was the most normal thing that could ever possibly happen on a new york city subway.
socks were finally thrown onto his feet and once his boots were all laced up, he pulled out a mirror and started wiping off the makeup that had been very apparently and carelessly applied (probably on another subway adventure someone else had the pleasure of witnessing). he threw on a uniform coat and a hat after stuffing the high heels and remnants of the makeup removal back into his bag, and, just like that.... the tranny had turned security guard in a mere 3 subway stops.
i could not believe my eyes. funny though, i figured the tranny gig would have been his night job rather than security guard, but i guess this just tickled his fancy. anyway, i had to share it with you. i wish someone would have been there to film it.
My own little tranny, Dave.
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