Boyfriend: July-October 2020
Arriving late to my friend Sal’s social-distanced birthday party in a park, I’d noticed him from 20 yards away, recognizing him from his Facebook profile on a local trans group. I walked up to where he and Sal were sitting and set my things down to declare my COVID-safe island, six feet from everyone. Hoping to be introduced to him, or to find the guts to introduce myself, I chickened out and crossed the circle to talk to an old friend.
But he was the only person at the party I really wanted to talk to. Returning to my island, I was relieved when Sal waved me over, saying, “Hey, man, let me introduce you! This is Tyson.” I noted this was not his Facebook name, which was gender neutral.
“Tyson,” I repeated, affirming his name, and smiled. I thought, probably a guy like me, then. But I couldn’t be sure, so I asked. Cis people are sometimes afraid to ask people’s pronouns; they think it might be rude. Quite the opposite. “Hell, it’s a pickup line,” I had quipped to a trans colleague just three days before, hours after breaking up with Kelsi.
“Cool. What’re your pronouns?” I asked.
Within seconds, we’d found a comfortable rapport of two sociable, good-looking trans guys on T. In a mostly unconscious effort to impress him, I lifted up my shirt and flashed him my belly, showing off the hair there, declaring, “T really does its work!”
“Heeeyyy, nice! I can’t wait for the changes on T! It’s just been four weeks for me.”
I smiled, pleased. We talked the rest of the party.