If you have no life and/or are obsessed with me (it's okay, we're all friends here) then you have actually read my About Me section and you will know that I refer to myself as "A walking contradiction." One of my contradictionalities... contradiction + personalities = contradictionalities... is my feminine vs. masculine qualities.
This dichotomy can be perfectly exhibited by my taste in television shows. I love shows on the super girly end of the spectrum: pretty much anything on Lifetime, Oxygen, TLC, WEtv etc. Give me a Saturday afternoon with a DVR filled with episodes of Say Yes to the Dress, Bridezillas, The Real Housewives, and any Lifetime movie starring Tori Spelling, Candace Cameron or any country music star, and I am happy as a clam. With a little pink bow. Because it's a girl clam.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, you will also find my DVR jam packed with lots of shows that are decidedly "manly." Mythbusters, Untamed and Uncut, 1000 Ways to Die and every episode of SpikeTV's Manswers. I think I'm ready for my honorary penis now, thanks.
So, while engaging in my mustache trimming, crotch scratching, burping, farting Manswers marathon this past weekend, my interest was piqued by a segment during which the Manswers team explored the world of transgenderism. In this segment, they answered the viewer's question: "How Can You Tell if She's Really a He?" Providing a "sure-fire" way to determine whether your potential bar hook-up is now, or ever was packing heat at some point in the past; a method more discreet than just copping a feel, which won't get you far with too many respectable chicks. Then again, if you're not on the hunt for respectable, grope away, but just know that you run the risk of getting slapped.
So, wanna know if she's really a he? Check out the video to find out how.
It's all in the fingers apparently. Well imagine my shock and dismay as I looked down at my right hand and saw this:
Uh oh. Doth my eyes deceive me? Is my index finger shorter than my ring finger? Why yes, yes it is. Don't worry, it gets worse. It always does. Check out my left hand:
Holy short index finger, Batman! So, what does that mean? Am I a man trapped in a woman's body? Or a woman trapped in a man's body? Or some other combination that hasn't been invented yet? Shit, well that would explain my social security mishap in 2005...
In 2005, my senior year of college, I started bartending at a campus bar. One day in February, my boss, who shall henceforth be known as "The Fat Man" (betcha can't guess why), called me into his office to talk to me.
Fat Man: "T, we have a problem."
T: "Um. Okay?"
FM: "Well, we ran your SSN for tax purposes... and it came back saying that your name is T (The shortnened male equivalent of my name) and that you are a male." (My name is of the gender "neutral" variety when in it's shortened form. In it's full length, it's strictly female.)
T: ...Blank Stare...
FM: "A dude."
T: "What? Um. Clearly I am not a dude! If I am, I'm a dude with a pretty nice rack. I mean, I'm really not a dude, you can check if you want!"
FM: [Uncomfortable] "Okay, um. Stop talking, please. I'm sure it's just some mix-up, but you have to have it resolved before I can let you work again."
T: "Ugh. Fine."
So, I got in contact with my aunt who works for the Social Security office. She tells me that at one point several years ago, they changed databases and had to transfer all the records from one database from another. She said that it was possible that there was a database entry error somewhere along the line and that I should call the local social security office.
I did just that. I called the local social security office and told them about my predicament. I told them my SSN and that according to my employer, my records were showing that my name is (shortened version) T and that I am a male. Ms. Social Security click-click-clicked into the computer and said, "Yes, that is the information we have on file."
T: "Um. Well I'm NOT a male!"
Ms. SS: "Okay, well you will need to come to the office in person with valid ID to get it changed."
T: "Ugh. Fine."
Unless you have ever had to visit the social security office, then you may not be aware that it is run much like any other government managed office, say... the DMV or the City Clerk's office... meaning, you must wait in line for 10,000 years. You will take a number. You will sit in a hard plastic chair. Time will pass. Seasons will change outside and pages will fly off the calendar. You may even grow a very long beard. I think I did. Wait, no. I'm not a dude, remember?
Finally, my number was called and I spoke to the lovely Ms. Social Security about my dealio. She looked up the records and told me (yet again) that the information on file is that I am, in fact, a bonafide, card-carrying, penis-having dude.
Ms. SS: "Yes, I see the information was changed in 1993."
Um. When I was 10? I didn't know they did gender reassignment surgery so young!
T: "Um. Yes, well I'm going to need that changed back to female and my name is (Long, female version) 'T,' not (shortened version) 'T.'"
Ms. SS: "Okay, well we will need to have proof of gender before we can do that."
T: "What do you mean 'proof of gender?' You want to go in the back with me? I'll show you. I'll show you RIGHT NOW!"
Ms. SS: "That won't be necessary, m'aam. You can just provide a copy of your birth certificate."
Fan-friggen-tastic. Because I always carry my birth certificate with me. And I'm living at college, so my birth certificate is likely in my mom's safety deposit box back in Chicago. No chance of getting my sex-change today, I suppose.
So, I called my mom and had her FedEx me my birth certificate. And then I headed back to the dreaded SS office and waited another 3 billion years to present my birth certificate (NOT my genitals) as proof of gender. That plus my driver's license successfully put me back to my rightful name and gender.
I was able to go back to work after that, but every night I tended bar, the Fat Man would play Aerosmith's "Dude Looks Like A Lady." Awesome. I can't hear that song now without getting an erection.
I mean...
Wait, what?
Yes, it was annoying and totally bizarre, but it makes a good story and gives me a good line to use when trying to brush off creepy dudes at the bar:
Creepy Bar Dude: "Hey, what's happenin' hot stuff?"
T: "Hey! I used to be a dude!"
Ok, someone want to explain why Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles was hitting on me just now?
Final Note: According to many of the people posting on the SpikeTV forums on this video - I am not the only female with this "anomaly," and apparently it's not all that uncommon for females to have a ring finger longer than their index finger. And here I was thinking I was special. Boo :(
And on to my favorite part of every post... Dear Diary!
Dec. 03 <3 1995
Hi Diary. Guess what? It happened. He really does l<3ve me. After 5:00 Mass he told me and then, he kissed me. Hee Hee Hee! I tricked you! It's not even Dec. 03 yet! It actually Nov. 30 1995. It's getting close though! Yipee! He's a babe! I'm on cloud noin! Oh by the way it's the 12 days of Christmas with George and Frankie and you can win tomorrow morning. Okay what that is is this radio contest on B96 each day starting with the day before the present day, for 12 days they give clues for an object that is in Frankies stocking so far I knew every one of them Aurghhh! And I didn't call in I'm just like Oh no, it's not right I'm stupid not in a million years! Then this one girl called in and said the answer I was going to say and she won and my mouth literally fell open. I was so pissed. Jeez! My brother talks on the phone a lot. Anyway, I'm gonna go now. Ok. Ok, bye! See ya! Ciao! Bye Bye!
Hahaha, so sly! Tricking my diary into thinking it was really Dec. 3 and my Ouija board trick really worked! Had me fooled for a bit there, I'll tell ya what! Let's see what really happens on Dec. 3, shall we?
Dec. 3 1995
I can't believe I actually believed in that Ouija board crap! Ok I admit he was there but he didn't even talk to me! I'm so pissed off now. I'm gonna go now O.K. Bye! See ya! Ciao! Bye-Bye!
Hahaha! Man, I'm surprised that the Ouija board's predictions weren't 100% accurate. I sound pretty pissed off don't I? God, I AM SO PISSED. Okay, BYE!
And what is with my multi-cultural departure after every entry? See ya! Sionara! Ciao! Bye!
This dichotomy can be perfectly exhibited by my taste in television shows. I love shows on the super girly end of the spectrum: pretty much anything on Lifetime, Oxygen, TLC, WEtv etc. Give me a Saturday afternoon with a DVR filled with episodes of Say Yes to the Dress, Bridezillas, The Real Housewives, and any Lifetime movie starring Tori Spelling, Candace Cameron or any country music star, and I am happy as a clam. With a little pink bow. Because it's a girl clam.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, you will also find my DVR jam packed with lots of shows that are decidedly "manly." Mythbusters, Untamed and Uncut, 1000 Ways to Die and every episode of SpikeTV's Manswers. I think I'm ready for my honorary penis now, thanks.
So, while engaging in my mustache trimming, crotch scratching, burping, farting Manswers marathon this past weekend, my interest was piqued by a segment during which the Manswers team explored the world of transgenderism. In this segment, they answered the viewer's question: "How Can You Tell if She's Really a He?" Providing a "sure-fire" way to determine whether your potential bar hook-up is now, or ever was packing heat at some point in the past; a method more discreet than just copping a feel, which won't get you far with too many respectable chicks. Then again, if you're not on the hunt for respectable, grope away, but just know that you run the risk of getting slapped.
So, wanna know if she's really a he? Check out the video to find out how.
It's all in the fingers apparently. Well imagine my shock and dismay as I looked down at my right hand and saw this:
Holy short index finger, Batman! So, what does that mean? Am I a man trapped in a woman's body? Or a woman trapped in a man's body? Or some other combination that hasn't been invented yet? Shit, well that would explain my social security mishap in 2005...
In 2005, my senior year of college, I started bartending at a campus bar. One day in February, my boss, who shall henceforth be known as "The Fat Man" (betcha can't guess why), called me into his office to talk to me.
Fat Man: "T, we have a problem."
T: "Um. Okay?"
FM: "Well, we ran your SSN for tax purposes... and it came back saying that your name is T (The shortnened male equivalent of my name) and that you are a male." (My name is of the gender "neutral" variety when in it's shortened form. In it's full length, it's strictly female.)
T: ...Blank Stare...
FM: "A dude."
T: "What? Um. Clearly I am not a dude! If I am, I'm a dude with a pretty nice rack. I mean, I'm really not a dude, you can check if you want!"
FM: [Uncomfortable] "Okay, um. Stop talking, please. I'm sure it's just some mix-up, but you have to have it resolved before I can let you work again."
T: "Ugh. Fine."
So, I got in contact with my aunt who works for the Social Security office. She tells me that at one point several years ago, they changed databases and had to transfer all the records from one database from another. She said that it was possible that there was a database entry error somewhere along the line and that I should call the local social security office.
I did just that. I called the local social security office and told them about my predicament. I told them my SSN and that according to my employer, my records were showing that my name is (shortened version) T and that I am a male. Ms. Social Security click-click-clicked into the computer and said, "Yes, that is the information we have on file."
T: "Um. Well I'm NOT a male!"
Ms. SS: "Okay, well you will need to come to the office in person with valid ID to get it changed."
T: "Ugh. Fine."
Unless you have ever had to visit the social security office, then you may not be aware that it is run much like any other government managed office, say... the DMV or the City Clerk's office... meaning, you must wait in line for 10,000 years. You will take a number. You will sit in a hard plastic chair. Time will pass. Seasons will change outside and pages will fly off the calendar. You may even grow a very long beard. I think I did. Wait, no. I'm not a dude, remember?
Finally, my number was called and I spoke to the lovely Ms. Social Security about my dealio. She looked up the records and told me (yet again) that the information on file is that I am, in fact, a bonafide, card-carrying, penis-having dude.
Ms. SS: "Yes, I see the information was changed in 1993."
Um. When I was 10? I didn't know they did gender reassignment surgery so young!
T: "Um. Yes, well I'm going to need that changed back to female and my name is (Long, female version) 'T,' not (shortened version) 'T.'"
Ms. SS: "Okay, well we will need to have proof of gender before we can do that."
T: "What do you mean 'proof of gender?' You want to go in the back with me? I'll show you. I'll show you RIGHT NOW!"
Ms. SS: "That won't be necessary, m'aam. You can just provide a copy of your birth certificate."
Fan-friggen-tastic. Because I always carry my birth certificate with me. And I'm living at college, so my birth certificate is likely in my mom's safety deposit box back in Chicago. No chance of getting my sex-change today, I suppose.
So, I called my mom and had her FedEx me my birth certificate. And then I headed back to the dreaded SS office and waited another 3 billion years to present my birth certificate (NOT my genitals) as proof of gender. That plus my driver's license successfully put me back to my rightful name and gender.
I was able to go back to work after that, but every night I tended bar, the Fat Man would play Aerosmith's "Dude Looks Like A Lady." Awesome. I can't hear that song now without getting an erection.
I mean...
Wait, what?
Yes, it was annoying and totally bizarre, but it makes a good story and gives me a good line to use when trying to brush off creepy dudes at the bar:
Creepy Bar Dude: "Hey, what's happenin' hot stuff?"
T: "Hey! I used to be a dude!"
Ok, someone want to explain why Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles was hitting on me just now?
Final Note: According to many of the people posting on the SpikeTV forums on this video - I am not the only female with this "anomaly," and apparently it's not all that uncommon for females to have a ring finger longer than their index finger. And here I was thinking I was special. Boo :(
And on to my favorite part of every post... Dear Diary!
Dec. 03 <3 1995
Hi Diary. Guess what? It happened. He really does l<3ve me. After 5:00 Mass he told me and then, he kissed me. Hee Hee Hee! I tricked you! It's not even Dec. 03 yet! It actually Nov. 30 1995. It's getting close though! Yipee! He's a babe! I'm on cloud noin! Oh by the way it's the 12 days of Christmas with George and Frankie and you can win tomorrow morning. Okay what that is is this radio contest on B96 each day starting with the day before the present day, for 12 days they give clues for an object that is in Frankies stocking so far I knew every one of them Aurghhh! And I didn't call in I'm just like Oh no, it's not right I'm stupid not in a million years! Then this one girl called in and said the answer I was going to say and she won and my mouth literally fell open. I was so pissed. Jeez! My brother talks on the phone a lot. Anyway, I'm gonna go now. Ok. Ok, bye! See ya! Ciao! Bye Bye!
Hahaha, so sly! Tricking my diary into thinking it was really Dec. 3 and my Ouija board trick really worked! Had me fooled for a bit there, I'll tell ya what! Let's see what really happens on Dec. 3, shall we?
Dec. 3 1995
I can't believe I actually believed in that Ouija board crap! Ok I admit he was there but he didn't even talk to me! I'm so pissed off now. I'm gonna go now O.K. Bye! See ya! Ciao! Bye-Bye!
Hahaha! Man, I'm surprised that the Ouija board's predictions weren't 100% accurate. I sound pretty pissed off don't I? God, I AM SO PISSED. Okay, BYE!
And what is with my multi-cultural departure after every entry? See ya! Sionara! Ciao! Bye!
Posts
2 comments:
I wonder how that blonde chick felt about all the guys in the bar thinking she was man. TLC or Discovery Health used run a show on gender reassignment it was faschinating...it didn't show images of two hot dogs touching, kielbasa or cucumbers breaking in two, but it managed to keep my attention.
I just checked and both my index fingers are shorter then my ring finger. I was a little worried- atleast you had some hope on one hand. BOTH MY HANDS SAY I AM A MALE!
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