July 9, 2012
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If I were a woman….for a day….written by a geezer.
LOVE IS BLIND, SWEET CHEEKSThink for a moment….a brief synaptic moment. What if, you woke up tomorrow and you were the opposite sex? Not talking about waking up in the recovery room of some slice and dice clinic in Switzerland. Nope, I’m saying you are now a he-she or a she-he. What would your typical day be like. Bear in mind, it should all seem normal to you…..that’s asking a lot, (for some, anyway).
It’s morning and my alarm just went off like my whining boyfriend during my period. I slowly roll out of bed and feel my way to the bathroom with my eyes half opened. I sit there with my head in my hands and pee. The tissue fairy failed to put a new roll of tissue on, so I just waddled a bit and get up. As I pass the mirror, I look the other way to save my fortitude until after my shower. Once in the shower, I stand there for a long moment till I’m totally awake and then I start my bathing ritual. Shampoo, conditioner, foamy body wash and a quick shave of the legs and pits. It’s only the middle of the week, so I skip the Summer’s Eve. Another a few moments of just standing under the shower head and then it’s over. I dry myself with a three day old towel and then wrap my hair up in it.
I now stand in front of the mirror and finally get the courage to wipe away the steam condensation from the glass. As I had anticipated, it was still me on the other side of the mirror and I had not improved from yesterday. My skin was taking on a life of it’s own these days and had so many creases and blotches that it looked like an old map of Europe. My eyes looked pre-rehab, my neck looked turkeyish, my pores looked gigantic, my skin tags looked as numerous as wheat and my boobs just looked down.
I started my daily campaign against nature with a good skin cream followed by an ever better one and then applications of industrial foundation, assorted powders, skin shimmer, lip gloss, eye liner and then finally the appropriate splashes of my almost favorite perfume in all the essential locations; accessible or otherwise.
At this point, I slip into my slippers and an old flannel shirt, that some guy left here when in a hurry to leave one night, and I scamper into the kitchen to make coffee. While it brews, I turn on the TV to listen to the three morning stooges on FOX. Now, with coffee mug in hand, I scamper back to my bathroom and start the renovation of my hair. I remove the towel from my head and analyze the challenge like a triage doctor. My hair is short with a $30 trim job, so all I have to do is just shake it out after drying. Bullshit. I fight several cowlicks, outcrops and irregular genetic defects until I finally achieve the look, as if I just shook it out.
I open my dresser drawer and dig for a pair of underwear with good elastic and no holes, but they’re all in the laundry, so I put on one of my dating t-backs. I look through my extensive collection of four bras and look for the one with the best structural integrity. Then I find a pair of knee-highs with the smallest toe nail holes and pull them on. Finally, I visit my closet and study the assorted styles, combinations, colors and accessories that will give the illusion of a never before seen ensemble, once I get to work. I pick out a pair of shoes, spritz some of my perfume in them and put them on. I head back to the kitchen and warm up my coffee and get two Fig Newton bars for my breakfast. Moments later, it’s back to the bathroom to take a poop while I finish my coffee. Then I brush my teeth and reapply lip gloss. One final quality control inspection in the mirror and I sadly shake my head and head to work.
Out the door and running late, I’m digging in my purse for my car keys and sunglasses. Once on the road, I cruise by Starbucks and get a poppy seed Danish and a large Cinnamon Dolce Latte….my brunch. While I’m driving, I’m holding my coffee and Danish in one hand and with the other, I’m digging in my purse for my cell phone. All the while I’m using my knees to drive. Once I find my phone I call the new guy I just started dating and leave a message in his mail box that I’m having my period. If he calls back, then we’ll get together tonight…..that is, if he calls back.
This exposé is based on many years as a single man and an even greater number of years as a silent and observant married man. Take this as a challenge and write about a day on the other side of gender.
Charlie
Comments (10)
It’s amazing the inspiration one can find in a single photograph
!
I am going to have to take an “F” on this assignment, Charlie. I am sort of lost between portraying a man the way I wish you guys were, the way you are, or what I think a man reasons. Don’t you guys lay back and say it is hard to understand a woman, it is no less difficult to figure out a man’s brain unless he is someone like Stephen Hawkins who only thinks numbers.
Loved your rendition of life as a woman. I think men have it easier.
frank
I liked how you covered your ass at the end there, Charlie. For a moment there I got the impression you dress in drag from time to time.
I think I’ll make a better man than a woman.
@Butterfly_Mystique - Sometimes, I think I would make a better goat…..
Oh Lord I do not want to wake up in the morning as a short, fat, gray haired 64 year old man. Please say it ain”t true. “Chuckling”
@Grannys_Place - Ain’t all that bad….just ask Wifey!
@UncCharlie - chuckling:)
If I woke up as a man, I would spend the rest of my life crying.