When I was heading home after a drinking session at a bar, we met this rather interesting transvestite (in full drag, no less). He/she turned to me with rather obvious bewilderment on his/her face and asked me: Are you a man or a woman? I suppose the irony of the question was lost on him/her. I simply responded by saying: That is a very interesting question. My friends were quite creeped out by the experience, especially since that wasn't quite a convincing drag getup, and with a rather interestingly masculine voice. I think I have served my stint as mysterious night creature this time round.
What is interesting though, is how such a person who indeed does seem quite willing to transgress gender boundaries by going about in drag at night yet turns out to be so concerned about the formal delineations of my gender. If anything, I'd have thought this person would have set them aside at least for the crossdressing stint.
That is not to say that I have not asked myself that question before. So far, my response has been...does it really matter? Sometimes, after much thought, my conclusion is that...it doesn't really. Androgyny for the win!
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