Retail therapy was the remedy I sought as I did the ’ shop to you drop’ along the shopping mall.
I bought the usual returnable stuff but my heart today wasn’t into the instant euphoria spending spree. A coffee under a red and green umbrella even though there was a roof above had me seated on my well toned glutes.
He smiled at me and my downstairs packed lunch had a hunger pang as Hugh my last boyfriend had sat down at the next table and was blatantly flirting with me as Ivan Stan.
‘What the Fuck! ’ fired up neon in my mind.
I hoped that somehow his response to me was a connection to our past, to the female me and not the male masterpiece he licked his lips at quite openly.
Was I so awful as his female lover that I’d turned my Hugh to a freelancing gay brother?
Or had he been hiding amongst his Prada tailored suits and cowboy boots in his antique walnut closet all along?
I still had that oversized steak, sexual sizzle for him which unfortunately the joy stick in my manly crutch responded with a game of ’ Let’s raise the flag of Ivan Stan’.
I slid further under the table to hide the summit of my Mount Everest and avoided Hugh’s dark blue come hither eyes.
He gave up his pursuit of Ivan Stan and left me alone in my thoughts of “never ever going to wish to be a man again.”
Home again with my shopping bags of financial debt and the phone rang.
“Hello…yes this is she err he.”
“Oh I see”
“Yes …it’s a shock and no I don’t want any therapy”
Flopping on the couch which in my muscular form as Ivan Stan was more a ker-thud, I shook my head at the news I’d just heard.
The last four weeks of my life whirled a toffee of sticky situations and hair raising escapes. And what I’d just heard blew the lid off everything one could think.
A phantom pregnancy had fooled the medical chemistry set.
But more than this, my She- devil was found to be lacking in the equipment to nurture a little embryo; her womb was AWOL and a former life as Fred had a lot to do with it.
She had been a he with the scalpel and hormone tabs being the magic genie of the land granting a ‘He to Her’ wish.
No moral dilemma in the end for me as Ivan Stan, there was no baby and inexplicably I felt some what sad.
My fake holiday to Peru was on the final visa stamp so I picked out a dress and pumps for the next morning for reclaiming my womanhood.
I closed my eyes saying goodnight to Ivan Stan waking to a very different morning glory as a woman again.
I still had one wish to use.
Would I wish for a money tree?
Would that make me happy?
World Peace forever more?
I did use my last wish but of course that’s another story but I can divulge that it hasn’t changed any lives , well not yet …
© K S Hardy 2010
I was a man for four weeks of my life a year ago almost to the day and now …
It is done…..Ivan Stan is no more.
He started from this and now the tale is told.