Workman: Chapter Two - Part Two

3

 

The work was easy now that I was a man.

I took to the painting in the hall, easily laying out the dust sheets and moving the ladder into place. I was so big and muscular now it was like nothing to me. I didn’t fanny about putting things off, I just got right down to it, filling the paint tray and starting with the brush. I painted the edges, careful to do a perfect job. The paint went on easily.

I put the radio on, winced when I heard the love ballad that was playing and tuned it to Radio One. That was much better. With the music on I could enjoy that as I got going. It made the work go faster and easier.

I switched to the roller and worked my way along the wall, quickly filling in the blank spaces. I shook my head at the poor job I’d done on the first coat. It was patchy and uneven but I supposed it was only to be expected. Men were much better at this kind of thing than women.

I used a brush attached to an extending rod to do the high up sections of the wall. That would have been practically impossible as a weak woman. As a big strong man it was a snap.

By lunchtime I’d finished the entire hallway and stairs. Not bad for a morning’s work. I’d definitely made the right decision to become a man.

I considered changing back into myself to eat but there didn’t seem much point. The change itself was pretty dramatic. I wondered if it might even give me trouble if I did it too many times. I felt fine for now but there was no point taking chances. And I was comfortable enough. If I’d been in my own body I’d have had to dry and set my hair, spend half an hour or more getting ready. It was a relief not to have to waste time doing that for a change and just loll about in casual clothes.

I went through to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I was ravenous and mostly it was just rabbit food in there. I frowned, mulling over what I fancied, then I remembered spotting some food in the deep freezer left behind by my parents. There were some baps. I cracked open the pack and buttered up a couple, slinging two quarter pounders into the oven on a tray.

There were a couple of beer bottles at the back of the fridge. I popped the cap on one and took a swig, enjoying the ice cold liquid. While I waited for the food to cook I grabbed the paper from the hall. I hadn’t got round to cancelling my mum’s subscription yet so they still got delivered. I sauntered back into the kitchen with it and folded it into a column, stroking down the sports pages with my eyes.

When my burgers were cooked I laid them out and tucked in, reading an article about a new Portuguese player the English rugby team had bought in. I shook my head to myself. That was going to be a mistake. Those sunburned peasants knew nothing about rugby.

I was still tutting to myself about that when I dumped the pots in the sink. I could do them later. I had proper work that needed doing, not pointless housekeeping. I could deal with that when I was a woman again. There were more important things to do now.

The floorboards in the lounge needed stripping and varnishing. I hadn’t been planning to do it at all but it was an easy enough job for a man. My dad had an electric sander and a pack of spare sanding sheets. I got that ready then cleared the furniture to one side of the lounge. That would have been impossible with my old body but it was a cinch with my new one.

I enjoyed using my strength to do it. It gave me a real sense of pride and satisfaction. I’d been swiping ineffectually at this house for almost two weeks as a woman and got almost nothing done. Now I was a man I’d done about as much work in half a day.

I chuckled, shaking my head. That was what you got when a woman tried to do a man’s job – nowhere fast. I spent a couple of hours sanding the floorboards then moved the furniture to the other side and started work on that. By the end of the afternoon It was done and I was whistling along with the music from the radio happily.

I went and sat on the front step with another bottle of beer, enjoying the rest. It was only when I got out there and sat down that I realised I was exposing myself as a man. Anyone could see me like this.

I almost jumped up and rushed back inside but I didn’t. Instead I shrugged. What did it matter? I was a man. They’d see a man. So what? I wasn’t embarrassed. It was normal.

The guy across the street was washing his car. I watched that absently for a while, enjoying the beer.

Then Mr. Crabtree came out of his front door carrying a bagful of rubbish to the wheelie bin. I narrowed my eyes.

He didn’t notice me at first and I just watched him, but when he did spot me he looked alarmed, as though he was worried the girl-me had told the man me about what a bastard he’d been.

He broke eye contact immediately and hurried back up his steps.

“Hey Crabtree!” I called.

He stopped and looked across, trying on a nervous smile. “Yes?”

“My… sister was telling me about the way you spoke to her yesterday.”

He paled. I got to my feet. He shuffled, looking like he was thinking of running inside to hide. “Er, yes, about that…”

“I don’t want to hear of you talking like that to her again,” I said, my voice low and simmering with possible violence. “You get me?”

He gaped back at me and then bobbed his head once quickly.

“If I hear you have done then you’ll have me to answer to. That clear to you?”

He bobbed his head again.

I managed to stop myself grinning.

“Now get back there and clear your shit off our property,” I said, thumbing toward the side of the house. “You know as well as I do that’s our land, not yours. Alright?”

“Yes,” he said. “Sorry.”

He hurried back down his steps and started round the side of the house. I turned my back on him, taking another swig of beer, and now I did grin to myself.

The bloke across the road washing his car had paused to watch. He was smiling and gave me a nod. “Nice work,” he said. “That guy’s nothing but trouble.”

I nodded back and tipped my beer bottle, feeling great. The beer was giving me a really warm rosy glow and telling Crabtree what for had been the coolest thing I’d ever done in my life. I was never like that but I loved it! The look on his face when he realised I’d beat the crap out of him if he didn’t do as I said.

I sat back down. The respect from the opposite neighbour was the icing on the cake. It felt marvelous to be admired for taking control of that situation. I could never have done that as a woman – I was a complete wimp – but as a man it had come naturally.

I leaned back against the doorframe feeling really happy and relaxed, filled with a new kind of confidence I hadn’t even known existed.

If this was what being a man was all about then I loved it!

4

 

On a normal day with me forcing myself to work, I usually told myself I’d done enough by three thirty-four o’clock. Not today. I went right back in there and got to work on checking over the lounge floor.

A fair amount of dust from the sanding had covered the horizontal surfaces and there was probably some still in the air. I didn’t want to start the varnishing with that waiting to settle so I spent half an hour wiping everything down and left the windows open to clear the air. While that happened I went out into the back garden and started clearing the detritus.

There were a lot of old rusted bits of furniture and toys of mine from when I was a little girl. I was normally quite sentimental but there was no use for any of this stuff. It had to go. I smashed it up into pieces, really enjoying the freedom of violent expression. I didn’t hesitate on my old toys. They were special to me once but I was an adult now and there was no point keeping old tat. It broke up easily and I shoved the bits into the skip I’d hired a few days earlier.

With most of the garden cleared of crap I was getting hungry again. I felt like I could eat a whole cow. I wondered how I would feel when I changed back. Would I still be that hungry? As I was going down to a smaller size, would it be better or worse?

But I considered not changing right away. If I changed back then I’d have to eat a salad or something dainty like that. I needed a proper meal. And I bloody well deserved it after my hard day of work.

Yeah. I decided to stay a man for another hour or so while I got some proper food in me. I could change back later on a full stomach.

The question now, was what to eat. There was nothing left in the freezer and the cupboards were packed with stupid girly foods that wouldn’t put a dent in my hunger and tasted like dry seeds.

I didn’t usually want to waste money on eating out. If I was going to blow funds I tended to do it on new clothes or shoes. Now that I had some distance, I could see how silly and wasteful that was. I’d worked hard. I was well ahead of the game on doing up the house. It was definitely alright to throw a bit of cash at a rewarding dinner.

And I was curious about interacting with other people as a man.

I’d had a very positive experience with Crabtree and the opposite neighbour. It had felt really good to get such a different quality of respect. I wondered how that would transfer when talking to waiting staff and barmen.

It crossed my mind that it was a bad idea, but nothing bad had come of being a man so far. I’d really enjoyed it – far more than I had expected. And I’d already proved I could change back whenever I wanted – just by removing the ring.

What the hell, I decided. Let’s do it.