Recently I was invited to a social function,
An invitation of which I accepted readily,
’Cause ya know,
I’m always hoping to gander across something to do.
After accepting said invitation …
I happened across some information that My Function was known by some who were going to be in attendance.
And these particular some I really didn’t now that well,
So I had no clue as to whether or not they were Friendlies.
Though in due consideration of how I became aware previously referenced some had called My Function,
I was suddenly concerned about attending said social event,
Since at the social event …
With the exception of a few very trusted Friendlies,
I was stealth.
And being unstealthed in this particular social situation …
Would very well likely not be a good thing,
To my safety and all.
And that totally sucks.
I hate it.
Now in the last month or so …
I’ve been "outed" three times,
In different social situations.
Never by friends or people that know me,
But apparently by people I don’t know …
That do know of me.
Now I understand that happens …
As oft recognizied before,
It’s a nice gossipy thing to talk about at times,
And living the whole woodworking life that I do,
I’m bound to be in settings where there are some that know and some that don’t know …
Krossover is inevitable.
But the three "outing" incidents I just referenced,
Even though I try to give these unknown outers the benefit of the doubt,
Are really hard to construe in any way other than …
Plus, there was the collateral result,
Which I so hope was unintended …
Of putting my safety at a huge risk.
And in one of those outings,
It was a really …
And in none of those situations,
Other than I guess just me being there,
Did I do anything to warrant these outers’ disclosures.
I’m friendly, somewhat outgoing, and …
Attempt not to be rude to guys that try to make a run at me.
Even those guys making a run at me,
Get klued in pretty early,
That they aren’t going to get anywhere.
It’s probably been close to a year since I’ve let anyone other than a friend,
Even buy me a drink.
(Editor’s Note 1: That really only applies to local guys, if I’m outta town, I welcome free drinks and truth be told, have welcomed them many times in the past year.)
(Editor’s Note 2: Another exception is if a shot is already poured or beer opened and it’s the bartender bringing it to me. Then sometimes I’ll accept the gift, though I do think even most of those recently I end up returning it to the sender by personal delivery, of course, with a nice no-thank-you, coached in a lie of some sort to protect their ego, but let them know it’d be best if that offered it to someone else.)
(Editor’s Note 3: Friends … please note that, as always, I do appreciatively accept free drinks from you !!! )
And it’s not like anyone has seen me on a date with someone they know …
BECAUSE I DON’T EVEN DATE LOCALLY.
Which way sucks too,
But it’s a concession I make to be able to live in my hometown.
All that is just background …
To let you know that at the current time,
I’m quite sensitive to safety concerns when I’m out and about …
And the very real possibility of being the recipient of a surprise outing,
Where I find myself suddenly in a precarious situation,
With no Friendlies around.
I was more than a tad bit apprehensive when I became aware that this particular social event to which I was invited …,
Was also going to be attended by some with knowledge aforethought.
And I did revisit in my mind,
Whether or not I should feign an excuse to unaccept the invitation.
I spoke with My Agent about it,
"Cause I always try to make sure someone knows where I am going to be,
In case I was unable to return,
And My Agent was pretty adamant,
“Make up an excuse !“
I think the words “you dumbshit” were also added.
Of course I listened to the advice being spoken,
But chose not to follow it.
And I’m not sure it was for a good reason.
I’ve placed myself in settings in the past,
Risky of sorts,
Where I have been very concerned about my well-being.
But have pushed through anyways,
And that’s because of one of my great issues …
Is that I have a greater concern than just risk to my safety.
I don’t want the first time I chicken out from doing something,
Because of fear of reaction to My Function,
To be the start of the long slippery slope of chickening out,
Hiding in the Amy-cave,
Every time the nerves krop up.
I’ve went through a lot to get to the point of being able to live,
And I don’t want cowardice to be the reason why I don’t take advantage of life.
I’m not ashamed of who I am,
What I am,
And I’m not about to phucking hide from the world.
That does seem to make me push myself at times,
Though I also know that at times in the past,
There were occasions when in addition to refusing to hide in the Amy-cave,
I didn’t really care if something happened to me or not,
Which might either mean I got a cheap thrill from risk-taking (my predilection for discrete intimate moments in quasi-public places seems to support this theory ),
I had some sort of self-loathing about my transsexualism leading me to feel receiving an assault was deserved, or …
I simply just didn’t care.
Personally I think it’s that I simply just didn’t care,
But who knows,
I do try to analyze things from all angles …
I also know,
That I might be somewhat desensitized to a risk in which I place myself,
’Cause after you’ve done the sex change thing,
A lot of things that might have seemed scary in the past,
Really feel pretty much nbd.
I attended the event,