I’m sitting at the bar at Foster’s Big Horn drinking a beer. I have my battered notebook and pen, and I’m trying to make sense of the situation. So far the page is blank. Over the last day or two I have gone back and forth about what I should do. Should I tell you what happened? Or should I just shut this damn blog down and pretend the whole thing never happened? It's all been so freaking bizarre!
Well it’s self evident that I got back okay. I was in a state of semi-shock for a couple of days, but it's begun to wear off. I still haven’t sorted through all of it to figure out what exactly happened and more importantly what it meant. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. Irby has been absent, making me once again wonder if he even exits. Then there’s the story itself. How do I write it?
Here’s the thing. Don’t laugh. When I went over there I was a woman. The events that unraveled were so strange that I find myself unable to comfortably write about it. The first thing is just saying, “I was a woman”. You see I wasn’t a man trapped in a woman’s body. I wasn’t just witnessing what was happening to me like I was watching the female hero in a movie. For a brief time I was a woman. I had the thoughts, fears, and desires of a woman. How do you write about that? How do you convey that when on this side of the door I'm a man?
I started writing down what happened, but it sounded ridiculous! I kept using the first person “I” and it comes out so weird that I have deleted the text three times! When I use the word “I” I’m thinking of myself, David Teves, a 61 year old man, not some young female thrown into an improbable adventure. What the hell do I do?
Second beer. Things are jelling a little. I got into a brief conversation with a tourist who was gawking at the animal trophies as if they might jump off the walls and attack him. I started thinking about what a member of PETA would think if they stumbled onto this place. I had a conversation with Howard, the owner of this establishment, about the Beatles. Howard is a big Beatle fan. So am I when my mind isn’t screwed up.
Third beer. Made up my mind. I will tell you the story about what happened up to the time I walked through the door in the present tense. I will tell you what happened on the other side of the door like I was writing a story about another person. That’s the only way I think I can pull it off without sounding like an idiot. Then the end part? I’ll think about that when I get there.
Give me a couple of days to begin. Be patient with me. It may take a few days or weeks for the whole damn thing to unravel into something coherent. And don’t worry. I promise it will be worth the wait.
Fourth Beer.
Well it’s self evident that I got back okay. I was in a state of semi-shock for a couple of days, but it's begun to wear off. I still haven’t sorted through all of it to figure out what exactly happened and more importantly what it meant. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. Irby has been absent, making me once again wonder if he even exits. Then there’s the story itself. How do I write it?
Here’s the thing. Don’t laugh. When I went over there I was a woman. The events that unraveled were so strange that I find myself unable to comfortably write about it. The first thing is just saying, “I was a woman”. You see I wasn’t a man trapped in a woman’s body. I wasn’t just witnessing what was happening to me like I was watching the female hero in a movie. For a brief time I was a woman. I had the thoughts, fears, and desires of a woman. How do you write about that? How do you convey that when on this side of the door I'm a man?
I started writing down what happened, but it sounded ridiculous! I kept using the first person “I” and it comes out so weird that I have deleted the text three times! When I use the word “I” I’m thinking of myself, David Teves, a 61 year old man, not some young female thrown into an improbable adventure. What the hell do I do?
Second beer. Things are jelling a little. I got into a brief conversation with a tourist who was gawking at the animal trophies as if they might jump off the walls and attack him. I started thinking about what a member of PETA would think if they stumbled onto this place. I had a conversation with Howard, the owner of this establishment, about the Beatles. Howard is a big Beatle fan. So am I when my mind isn’t screwed up.
Third beer. Made up my mind. I will tell you the story about what happened up to the time I walked through the door in the present tense. I will tell you what happened on the other side of the door like I was writing a story about another person. That’s the only way I think I can pull it off without sounding like an idiot. Then the end part? I’ll think about that when I get there.
Give me a couple of days to begin. Be patient with me. It may take a few days or weeks for the whole damn thing to unravel into something coherent. And don’t worry. I promise it will be worth the wait.
Fourth Beer.
David- I am very curious about what happened on "the other side" - and can't wait to find out! Please take your time, but hurry up!
ReplyDeleteYour pal- Irby's Brother, Kirby