Workman: Chapter Two - Part Three

5

 

I owned a little three door hatchback that really wasn’t designed for a man to drive – especially one of my stature. Worse it was decked out with all the most feminine accessories: mauve seat covers, mats and steering wheel to match the exterior paintwork and a big plastic purple flower sticking up from the centre of the dashboard.

If I could even get into it I was going to look like a twat.

I was going to have to walk. That wasn’t too much of a problem. Chauncy had a smallish shopping centre with several pubs and restaurants. It wasn’t too far down the hill from the house. It was nowhere near as up-market as the boutiques in Farley further to the east and a bit higher up the valley wall but it was a step above some of the other suburbs.

Normally I would have spent an hour or two getting ready to go out but a glance in the mirror told me I looked fine as I was. The shirt and jeans were a bit dusty but I didn’t have anyone I was trying to impress.

I lingered on my reflection for a bit, eyes moving over this new face of mine. It wasn’t quite as jarring now. I wondered that I wasn’t petrified of the idea of going outside looking like this but that seemed silly to me. So I was a man. So what? Half the population were men.

I looked round for my handbag to get some money but I couldn’t find it anywhere. What I did find in its place was a wallet. I gave it a second’s thought then popped it open. There was cash inside, a credit and a debit card. I slipped one out of its slot.

Geoffrey Stanwick.

Geoff.

The name I’d joked around with in front of the mirror the day before.

I mouthed the phrase, “What the hell?”

And my own family name. Like I really was my own brother.

I checked the ring. It was just a ring. I thumbed through the wallet again. There was about the same amount of money in there as I’d had in my purse as a woman. Was it possible that…? If I changed back now, would this wallet turn back into my handbag?

I scrutinised it for a minute then shrugged. I had no idea. I guess I’d see. But if that was true then this wasn’t just a physical transformation spreading through my body like a virus, it was real magic – far reaching enough to give reality a nudge.

Did this mean people who knew me as Alison would remember me still? Or would they think I had always been a man?

It was a little troubling.

I decided to forego my appetite for a minute and jogged upstairs. Inside the wardrobe my woman’s clothes were still there. So… that meant my female self still existed presumably.

I scratched the back of my neck, thinking about it, then shrugged. It didn’t matter for now. I was starving. I could worry about the existential questions after I’d eaten.

 

6

 

The walk down to the centre of Chauncy was a pleasant one.

It was spring and there was a fresh and optimistic warmth to the air. I enjoyed walking for a change. As a woman I was forever strutting about in heels, unable to walk more than a couple of hundred yards. Now I walked with an easy masculine gait, my big muscular arms swinging lazily back and forth.

It took me just over ten minutes to reach the row of shops and restaurants. There was a narrow slip road along the front of the shops with angled parking bays. The shops weren’t, on the whole, simply for convenience. There were several fancy goods stores, a cook-shop and some clothing outlets, one of them for surfing gear; even though we were sixty miles from the coast. I ambled past, heading for the steakhouse I knew was at the far end.

It was fairly busy inside with the tail end of the early-dinner crowd. The families eating there were finishing up and the more mature later-evening crowd were already getting established. I took a seat at the counter and ordered a beer, taking up the menu.

Usually I pontificated endlessly on what to eat. This time I gave it a five second glance and ordered a rump steak and chips. The barmaid took my order and then smiled. “Would you like anything else?”

“Not yet, ta love,” I replied. “I’ll have another beer when I’m done with this one though.”

She smiled again and withdrew to the kitchen, leaving me wondering if the sparkle in her eyes had been what I thought it was. There was a mirror behind the bar. I looked at myself in it appraisingly. I did look dishy in a rugged kind of way.

A figure appeared behind me in the reflection. “Alright mate.”

I turned. It was the man from the house across the road. I nodded at him. “Oh. Hey.”

He had a woman with him, his wife or girlfriend. She had sandy brown hair and a friendly face and I had the impression she was checking me out. The man chuckled. “I was telling Debbie here about you giving old Crabtree what for earlier. That was awesome.”

All three of us laughed. “Well he had it coming,” I said. “… the way he talked to my sister.” I looked to the woman. “So you’re Debbie?” I extended my hand.

She shook it, her dainty hand tiny inside my big masculine one. “Yes. Don’t worry. Charlie never remembers to introduce me.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Geoff.”

It was so weird to interact with people as a man – to call myself that name.

“And we don’t officially know each other,” said the man. “I’m John.”

I shook his hand too, enjoying the strength of my grip measured against his. It was interesting to be on an even setting with a man for a change. I was actually a few inches taller than him. Noticing that made me feel a certain amount of pride.

“So are you doing up the old place?” asked John.

“I sure am. My… sister’s been doing it for a little while…”

“I think I’ve seen her,” said Debbie.

“… but she had to… call me in. It’s hardly woman’s work fixing up a house like that.”

“Hey!” said Debbie, good naturedly prodding me in the arm. “A woman can do anything a man can.”

I chuckled. “That’s what they like to think; but I have it on good authority that it ain’t exactly true.” I flashed my eyebrows. “Sorry.”

Debbie’s expression softened into friendly bemusement. “I’ll let you off this once because we’ve just met but I may have to bop you one if I hear that kind of sexism next time we meet.”

I glanced at John. “Don’t look at me mate,” he said, raising his hands. “I might agree with you but I wouldn’t dare say it.”

“John!” Debbie elbowed him in the side playfully and we all laughed.

They started to break off. “You can come sit with us if you like,” said John. Debbie nodded.

“Nah,” I said. “Don’t want to get in the way of your romantic evening.”

“You’re more than welcome,” replied Debbie.

I smiled. “No. Thanks. I’m just gonna eat my steak and then toddle off home; get some shut eye. Maybe next time.”

“Okay.”

They walked on to their table and I took a swig of my beer happily. It had been great fun to chat to them – to pretend I really was a man. I’d always been shy around new people. I guessed I wasn’t so much now because I was sort of wearing a mask. I didn’t have anything to be shy about because nobody knew it was really me.

There was a stack of magazines and newspapers at the end of the counter. I wandered down to it and rooted through. They were mostly women’s magazines. I scanned the articles listed on the cover of the top one. Nothing particularly caught my eye but I took it back with me anyway, scanning the picture of the model on the front.

I thumbed through it, looking for something to read but it was mostly boring stuff about shoes and home furnishings. I went on flicking until I found a series of pages with celebrity pictures. I always enjoyed reading a bit of gossip.

I folded back the cover and drifted my eyes across the pages. I tried reading a couple of the passages but this one was dull as ditchwater. Instead I just looked at the pictures, settling mainly on the women. I moved my gaze up and down each figure, tracing the shiny legs and arms, the bountiful cleavage; the curves; the pretty faces. When my eyes fell on a man they flicked on immediately and I slowly realised what I was doing, the vague pleasure it was giving me to examine these women’s scantily clad bodies.

I fancied them! I found them attractive!

Could that be true?

I looked out across the restaurant, settling on one cluster of people after another. There were a few men I would normally have classified as good looking, but linguering on them now made me feel immediately uncomfortable. The women on the other hand… It felt really nice to look at them. Really nice. And I caught myself staring at their boobs for too long, furtively looking from one to another.

I made myself close my eyes and look front. This was too weird. I didn’t like it.

“Here you go!”

The barmaid put my steak and chips in front of me with another smile. I smiled back, my eyes automatically dropping to her ass as she walked away.

I didn’t like this; not one bit. It was well wrong. I shouldn’t be fancying girls!

I focused on my food, trying to put it out of my mind, tucking in.

With the first taste I paused, really savouring it. It was incredible! I chewed slowly, drawing it out, loving the flavour filling my mouth.

I wasn’t a vegetarian as such but I tended to eat very little meat. I steered entirely clear of red meat on the whole. I didn’t know why I’d ordered the steak apart from the fact it had looked like one of the bigger dishes and I was so ravenous. But this was one of the nicest things I’d ever eaten. Ever! Really first class!

I chomped my way through it, grinning at the barmaid when she brought a second beer without me needing to ask. I had a sense she was coming on to me but that really didn’t make me comfortable, though part of me wondered what fun playing along with a flirtation just for a while might be, even if it didn’t go  my way.

And it couldn’t go anywhere. I wasn’t a lesbian, I didn’t want to stay a man for the rest of my life and I couldn’t take advantage of another woman like that; knowing how it felt to be led on. I shuddered at the thought of kissing a woman.

But she did have sexy arms…

I just concentrated on my food. After I was done with the steak – at least double the normal amount of food I would have eaten – I ordered a bowl of bread & butter pudding. I didn’t know why because I’d always hated the stuff with a passion, but the description in the menu made it sound delicious.

When it came out I tucked in happily, really enjoying the taste and consistency as I flicked through a long section of my magazine with girls modeling summer dresses. They were beautiful but I had a vague sense that I would have preferred them with a bit more meat on their bones.