Carl, meet Joan

I decide to volunteer as an election worker, and was assigned to a precinct across town. When I went to the first meeting I entered the room not knowing anyone. We were seated in a circle of chairs, and the instructions were to talk to the person to our right, and then introduce that person to the person on our left.

I was seated with Alex on my right. We introduced ourselves. I found out that he had been doing this for over 10 years, and that he was a retired accountant who did this to give back to the community. He was a wealth of information.

To my left was Betty, a teacher who always took election day off, and decided that she, too, wanted to volunteer for the community. I told her that I was just graduated from college and had my first job as an engineer, and was worried about the state of misinformation and wanted to help ensure that the election system would work well.

Now that it was time to introduce people, I said to Betty, "Please meet Alex French, a retired accountant who has been doing this for over a decade, and has a lot of good information to share!"

The three of us chatted a bit, then the "other" introductions were made, and Alex said to me, "Carl, meet Joan, a young woman who has just moved to our fair city. She is an engineer at Noland an architectural engineering firm, and is volunteering to help with the elections."

She was a stunning woman - reddish blonde hair, green eyes, a smile that made me melt - and her eyes just sparkled as she smiled.

"Nice to meet you Carl," she said, extending her hand.

As I shook her hand, Alex continued, "Carl is also an engineer, just starting out."

"Oh, where do you work?" she asked.

"I just started with a small electronics firm, doing machine learning firmware for some AI applications."

"Oh my, that sounds complicated!"

"Well, yes, and no. I am being mentored through some of the more challenging parts, but much of it is low-level, so it is less complex building blocks for a more complex supervisory function to use."

As we started into a deeper discussion, the head of the precinct called us all back to order. The rest of the evening was a discussion of the functions we would provide before, during, and after the election itself. There was a list of tasks, and we were all to choose our top 3 interests. Those with the most experience would get their top choices, but we were assured that novices would not be working alone in any of the tasks.

There was a lot to cover and the evening went by faster than I'd expected. As the meeting was adjourned, I looked for Joan, catching her just at the door.

"Hey, Joan!" I called, and she stopped.

"I was wondering if you'd like to get a drink or a coffee?"

"Um, not right now," she replied, "I have an early morning tomorrow."

"Another time, then?" I asked.

"I...I'm not sure that's a good idea, I'm sorry," she said, turning to go.

Well - shot down before I even got started.

At the next meeting of the precinct, I wanted to approach her again, but was still stung from the first attempt, so I stayed away. Again, there was a lot going on and the evening passed rather quickly.

As I was headed out the door, she approached me.

"Hey Carl, can I talk to you for a second?" she asked.

Unsure what this would bring, I simply replied, "OK."

We stepped aside and she spoke to me, quietly.

"I'm sorry if I seemed abrupt last time, but being new here I am a bit afraid of things."

"What 'things'?" I asked.

"Well, I wasn't sure if you were hitting on me."

"Look, Joan, we'd had a good start of a conversation around engineering - what I'm doing, what you're doing, and I just wanted to go on with that."

"OK, I'm just not used to getting asked out, and I was a little freaked out about it."

Not used to getting asked out? She's a knockout, how could that be?

"You are gorgeous, I'm sure you've been asked out a bunch!" I replied.

"No - well - I mean, thank you for the compliment, but I have my reasons to say that no, I have not been asked out much. So, I'll tell you what - we can go get a drink, but it is not a date, OK?"

Still a bit unsure, I agreed.

"OK, there is a quiet bar called Tacoma Cabana on Pacific, I'll meet you there," she said to me.

"That sounds fine, it's closer to my end of town, anyway."

"Perfect, me, too!"

When I arrived, I did not see her yet, so I ordered a beer at the bar and found a table. Joan came in a few minutes later, ordered a red wine and joined me.

True to my word, I kept the conversation at the engineering level. She was a mechanical engineer who had graduated with an MS from MIT, and worked for a firm that did structural analysis and engineering for architects. I had gone to University of BC in Vancouver and was working on some firmware and hardware applications for AI.

As the evening got late, I told her that I needed to get home.

"I've enjoyed talking with you," I said, "any chance that we can get together again? I'm not 'hitting on you', but if you're open to it, we could call it a 'date'!"

"I really don't think you want to do that - the date, part, that is, but we could get together for dinner sometime - as long as we both pay - as friends."

I wanted to press her for details on why she didn't want to date, but guessed that she'd had a bad experience, and I sensed that it was best not to be pushy.

"OK, friend, can I have your number so we can plan it?"

"Well," she said, "let's plan it now, how about Sunday - at say, 6:00?"

She chose another restaurant in the same vicinity.

We met like this another few times. We were both relatively new to the city and it was nice to have someone to talk to. We had both been high school nerds, making good grades and such, and not really part of the "in" crowd. Still, every time I'd bring up the idea of a date, it was a total non-starter. I was quite smitten with her, and was getting more and more desperate.

Finally one evening at dinner I decided that I had to push it with her.

"Listen, Joan, every time I bring up going on a date, you shoot it down before it even gets off the ground. I have to know - is it something about me? Do I remind you of your brother, even though you told me that you don't have a brother? I need to know what's going on."

She just looked at me, the look on her face an odd combination of both determination and uncertainty.

"OK, I'll level with you. I'm scared of losing your friendship though, but I can see that it's frustrating you enough that I may lose you if we don't confront this."

"Confront what?" I asked.

She took a deep breath.

"I'm a transgender."

"I - I don't think I quite understand," I replied.

"I was born with male genitals. I was raised as a boy, until I hit about middle school. I told my parents that I am really a girl, but I have the wrong plumbing. I started my transition in high school - hormones, lots of psychiatrists, some 'top surgeries' and such. The only thing left is the main 'bottom' surgery."

I just stared at her. My mind was racing, but not really able to land anywhere.

"Carl?" she asked, "are you OK?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm - I'm - I'm OK. Just a little stunned, a little unsure what this really means"

She started to get up, but I grabbed her hand.

"No, please! I'm sorry - this was totally unexpected! But please don't run away!"

"Don't run away?"

"Please, stay. I - well, we - we have talked about so much over the last weeks, and I have gotten to know you - or I thought I did, and this seems so - well, almost overwhelming to me, but please give me a moment to let it sink in - after all, you've had several years."

She looked at me, I could see tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh, Joanie, please don't cry - I'm sorry to feel overwhelmed, but it's a lot to process here, just please stay, I want you to stay!"

At that the tears burst over the dam.

"Carl!" she said between sobs, "you don't have to apologize, you're staying and you want me to stay! I was so afraid that you'd just up and run, and here you are holding me back!"

"Joan, I...I mean, we are friends! What kind of shit would I be if I ran out?"

"The usual kind, I guess."

"This has happened before?" I asked, then realized what a dumb ass question it was.

"No," I quickly said, "please forget I asked that. I know at a cognitive level that people can be shits, but I guess I'm lucky that I never really have to experience it much, and I guess you have. I can understand that you would assume that I'm just another one, but please let me be the exception."

Her shoulders were heaving as she cried, and I knew that I needed to do more than sit there like a lump on a log. I got up and sat on her side of the table and I wrapped my arms around her.

"Shhh, shhh, it's OK, I'm still here!" I said to her.

Suddenly she wrapped her arms around me, and buried her head in my shoulder and cried.

After a full minute or so the sobs settled down, and she pushed herself away and smacked me on the chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

I looked at her, somewhat incredulous.

"Comforting a friend?" I said, then looking at my shirt I continued, "and being a big tissue!"

She didn't laugh at my weak attempt at a joke.

"Why didn't you run away?"

"Did you want me to?"

"No, I just expected you to, that's all."

"Joan, I don't know who ran away from you before, but I won't."

"Yeah, but you don't want to go on any dates now, do you?"

That one did catch me. What did I want to do? I was awestruck by her, but I had always thought about getting into her panties and finding a vagina. Would I be gay if I wanted to date her? Would I date her if I knew that she was going through that final 'bottom surgery'? Or if she wasn't? Should I enter her world of gender openness?

"Well, and I want to be open and honest with you, I can't tell you quite how I feel right at this moment. Over the last weeks we've become good friends - at least, I think we have. I don't meet anyone else once a week for dinner. Joan, I care deeply about you and I can see that this is all difficult for you. Yes, at least a part of me very much wants to date you, but at least a part of me is questioning that - I always thought of myself as strictly heterosexual, and what does this do to that?"

She almost looked angry to me now.

"So you are just one of those that thinks gender is either/or? And that sexuality is either hetero or homo? God, why don't you just leave?"

"Hey, that's not fair!" I replied, " as I said, you've had years to process this, and you haven't given me fifteen minutes! I said it's new, and I want to be honest. I'm certainly not rejecting you, I just have a ton of questions floating around in my head. But that being said, I'd give you another hug without hesitation!"

She looked at me, again I could see tears welling in her eyes.

"You're right," she said, "it's unfair of me to expect a snap judgement, and I've just dropped a ton of bricks on you."

Without waiting for an invitation, I again wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

She hugged back and I held her for several seconds.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"It seemed like the thing to do - like you needed a hug, and like I wanted to give you one."

She looked at me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"To be cliche, thank you for being a friend."

"Well," I said, "thank you for finally trusting me with this."

"Does it change things?" she asked.

"No - and yes. You are still a gorgeous, intelligent, and very interesting woman, but now I know that you trust me with a secret that must be difficult to share, and that changes things."

"Thank you, again."

"For?"

"For calling me a woman and for being so understanding."

"You identify as a woman, don't you?" I asked.

"Of course, but not everyone sees it that way. Hey, maybe I'm ready to trust you with something else."

I tried not to react too much - she'd already dropped a bomb on me.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Do you want to come to my place for a drink, or some coffee, or something?"

Wow! She was going to trust me with knowing where she lives! My face must have shown the surprise - and the joy.

"From the look on your face, I think you like the idea. And yes, this is a big step, too, but since you reacted so well to my news, I think I can trust you."

"I promise you that you can," I replied.

We each paid for our meals and stepped out of the restaurant.

"I'm parked over a block," I said, "where are you?"

"At my apartment - it's a block and half that same way. We can just walk - that's how I got here."

I should have guessed it. All of the restaurants that she'd suggested were in this same area. As we started down the street, I reached for her hand and as our fingers went together she moved closer and grabbed my arm with her other hand. There was a war going on in my head as my emotions battled out my infatuation with her, and my new-found knowledge that she has a penis and not a vagina. Still, I wanted to support her, so I let my infatuated side win - at least for now.

Her apartment building had a doorman who greeted her by name.

"Good evening, Joan!" he said as he moved to let us in.

"Hi Frank, this is my friend Carl."

"Good to meet you Carl!" he said in a friendly manner.

"Nice to meet you Frank!" I replied.

We went in and up the stairs to the second floor. The apartment was nice, with high ceilings and hardwood floors. The living room had a large rug with a couch and an overstuffed chair, a television and a stereo. There were two guitars on stands next to an electric piano. At one end of the living room was a counter that separated the kitchen area, and a medium sized table. One end of the table was cleared of things, but the other end had some blueprints spread out, and a laptop computer.

"Sorry about the mess - I do bring work home with me, and I don't have any office area, so the dining table becomes a desk."

"I hate to ask - I should have gone before we left the restaurant, but can I use your bathroom."

She looked at me for a couple of seconds.

"It's through the bedroom. Give me a couple of minutes to straighten things - I did not expect to be having you here."

She disappeared through the door and I heard some rustling going on. A minute or so later, she reappeared.

"No snooping, please!" she said, "It's through that door, then the door on the right. What would you like? I can put on coffee, or I can give you a glass of wine."

"Hmm, coffee at this time of night ruins my sleep, so I guess a glass of wine."

I went into her bedroom, and tried not to look around too much. She had a queen sized bed, and a nice dresser and a chair at the window, with a stack of books next to it. The bathroom was a bit small, with a shower (no tub), a vanity and a toilet. Next to the vanity was a clothes hamper.

I relieved myself, and remembered to put the seat back down. I washed my hands and returned to the living room.

Joan was seated on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand, another on the coffee table. I picked up the glass, then sat down beside her on the couch.

"It's hardly grand, but it is adequate for me," she said.

"I think it's just fine - nicer than my place. Especially the decorating."

"Typical guy stuff?" she asked, "A plain couch, a cheap dinette set, a huge TV with a gaming system?"

"Well, the TV is large, but I wouldn't say huge, and I don't have a gaming system. I do have a kick-ass sound system, though. I guess you play music?"

"Yes, I love to play the piano and the guitars. I'd like to have room for a baby grand one day, but for now it's just the electric one. Playing is my soul soother."

"Will you play for me?" I asked.

"Mmm, maybe one day, but not tonight. I've opened myself up about as much as I can for one night. So - speaking of that, what are your questions?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"At the restaurant, you said you had a lot of questions - what are they?"

"Oh boy! Um, some of them are kind of, well, intimate, personal, and I don't know if this is the time."

"Of course it's the time!"

I hesitated, and took some deep breaths. I was unsure of how to proceed.

"How did you decide that you were a woman?"

"Well, I don't think that I 'decided' to be a woman, it was something that I just kind of knew. Of course, when you are younger, you don't really know what it all means, but I always had the sense that I was in the wrong kind of body. My mind always thought that I was a girl. When you begin to learn about the genitals, I always felt like I was supposed to have a vagina, and not a penis. As I told you, when I was in middle school, I told my parents that I was supposed to be a girl."

"How did that go?" I asked.

"Well, the first reaction from my dad was to get angry and blame something that I'd seen or read. My mother pulled me aside and asked me questions about how I knew and what did I think that it meant. She talked to my dad and calmed him down and we went to see a therapist, and he eventually suggested a gender therapist and that's what started it. After doing that for almost a year, I got into a program of hormone therapy. The hormones felt right to me. My breasts began to swell a bit and all, but I just started to look like a feminine boy, or a boyish girl. After a couple of years, I had a couple of surgeries, one to enhance the boobs, and one to reshape my face a bit. The hormones and diet and exercise helped slim down my shoulders and belly."

"But no, what did you call it, 'bottom surgery' yet?" I asked.

"Not yet. At one point the doctors weren't too sure about the full gender reassignment surgery. They've gotten better about it, but I'm a bit scared about that part. If they botch that up, then I don't know if I can enjoy sex at all, so I am a bit reluctant to go there. Right now, I can live most of my life as a woman, and be perceived as a woman, and I am content with that for now. At least, I was."

"You were?"

"Yeah, then you came along."

"What did I do?" I asked.

"You awoke in me a desire, and now I don't know what to do. I was not planning on telling you anything. I've already consulted my doctor again about that bottom surgery, but I'm still unsure. I wasn't going to tell you anything, but tonight you pushed the whole dating thing and I felt like I had to tell you."

"I'm glad you did," I replied.

"You are? Why? It just complicates things!"

"Yeah, I suppose, in a way it does, but then again, you trusted me, and I think I proved to be trustworthy. You invited me here, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," she replied.

I looked into her eyes. She was both confident and unsure at the same time. Like my decision to hug her at the restaurant, I made a decision her. I leaned in and I kissed her - on the lips. I was, I suppose, a bit tentative at first. I was not sure how she would respond, but I went for it.

At first she was also a bit tentative, but I put my hand on the side of her neck, then behind her head, and I pulled her toward me. My kiss went from tentative to passion, and hers grew passionate as well. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled our bodies together.

As we broke the kiss, she say back - "What was that?"

"What did it feel like?" I asked.

"Carl, I...I don't know what to say! My head is reeling with questions and thoughts, and now I am more confused than ever! What does this mean?"

"It means, m'lady, that I have come to a conclusion about something."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"Will you go out with me? I want a proper date, where I make reservations, give you flowers, and pay for the evening."

She threw herself at me and kissed me deeply.

"You have made me happier than I think I've ever been!" she exclaimed. "Now, go home!"

"What?"

"Yes, go home and think about it. Call me tomorrow and tell me where we are going. Do you have anything going on tomorrow night? I don't want to seem desperate, but I also don't want to put this off!"