“If you stay here,” he dutifully remarked, “You might get wet.” “I am already wet,” I replied. He didn’t seem to catch my innuendo. He s...epped from his cart and repeated, “You’re going to get wet if you stay here.” I backed my cart up and stopped. “How about here?” I inquired. He shook his head back and forth. I crooked a lone finger and motioned for him to step over to where I was seated on the cart. He looked around and then stepped over to the cart where I sat, my legs spread. I put a lone. If Iwanted, I could go back to being a man, but I liked being a woman. I justhated the idea of beauty contests that arbitrarily selected winners basedon some notion that a woman's figure was a sure sign of her intelligenceor some such nonsense. But with my talent as a pianist, I could go on, asa woman, and nobody would care. But I needed my own identification. UsingGina's ID was killing me because I couldn't let her go, and kept me fromfeeling that I couldn't finished my grieving.Within a month. More

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