Entry tags:
Respect, you fail it.
Background, because I'm not sure I've mentioned A (as always, no full name to protect the guilty) before. He and I met randomly when I was a freshman. We tried being friends for a while, but we had nothing in common and, frankly, he’s kind of a creeper, so I’ve been avoiding him as much as possible since.
Yesterday, he showed up on Facebook chat wondering about my Facebook name change, but he’d left before I came back and could explain it to him.
Last night is the rage.
Dear A,
What a coincidence that my club and yours were having get-togethers in the same room last night. I hadn’t seen you in years – well before I transitioned – and now there you were. And look, I don’t mind explaining – yes, my name is Justin; yes, I’m “a guy now”; I transitioned over the summer; and so on. All that was fine.
However. “But…you’re not a guy!”
Run that by me again? Last I checked, my identity wasn’t up for debate, jackass. Besides which, you don’t know me. We haven’t seen or said two words to each other for two years. What makes you think you know better than me?
And I don’t think you know I don’t like you, but it doesn’t make a bit of difference – no one’s allowed to be that much of an ignorant jerk. But thanks, now I have a legitimate reason to dislike you!
I really should have slugged you before I escaped to the GLBTF party where they actually, you know, respect me (shock, awe, gasp).
No love,
Justin
P.S.: If my identity were up for a vote, I’d have enlisted my fellow club-members, and you’d have lost that twenty-to-one. Thanks for playing.
Crossposted to
tranny_rage.
Yesterday, he showed up on Facebook chat wondering about my Facebook name change, but he’d left before I came back and could explain it to him.
Last night is the rage.
Dear A,
What a coincidence that my club and yours were having get-togethers in the same room last night. I hadn’t seen you in years – well before I transitioned – and now there you were. And look, I don’t mind explaining – yes, my name is Justin; yes, I’m “a guy now”; I transitioned over the summer; and so on. All that was fine.
However. “But…you’re not a guy!”
Run that by me again? Last I checked, my identity wasn’t up for debate, jackass. Besides which, you don’t know me. We haven’t seen or said two words to each other for two years. What makes you think you know better than me?
And I don’t think you know I don’t like you, but it doesn’t make a bit of difference – no one’s allowed to be that much of an ignorant jerk. But thanks, now I have a legitimate reason to dislike you!
I really should have slugged you before I escaped to the GLBTF party where they actually, you know, respect me (shock, awe, gasp).
No love,
Justin
P.S.: If my identity were up for a vote, I’d have enlisted my fellow club-members, and you’d have lost that twenty-to-one. Thanks for playing.
Crossposted to
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