Do clothes really make the man ... or woman? An invitation to a night on the town becomes an object lesson in what it means to be a friend.
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.”
— Richard III, Act 1 scene 1, lines 1-4
“I can’t believe Jeannie’s finally going clubbing with us again tonight,” Angie said, the excitement in her voice echoing in the lobby of the office building.
“I can’t believe Gene agreed to let her go.” Lisa looked over at the elevators, then back at her watch. “He’s been dead set against the idea for weeks, ever since the last time she went out with us.”
“Well, Gene’s just a stick in the mud,” Carla grinned, then did an impromptu dance step followed by a twirl. “Let Jeannie out to play, and watch out, girl! We are SO going to have fun tonight.”
“I bet Gene’s not so bad,” Angie watched as Carla’s smile became a frown. “You just don’t want to know him. In fact, you don’t seem to like men very much at all.”
“Oh, I like ‘em, honey,” Carla replied. “As long as they’re buying me drinks and keeping their hands off, I like ‘em just fine. Anyway, I don’t see you getting too close to Gene. What’s your problem?”
Angie sighed and didn’t reply. Sometimes she really didn’t like Carla at all.
As the last stragglers wandered out of the elevators and out into the street, the lobby grew silent.
“Jeannie sure takes a while to get ready,” Lisa said, looking at her watch again.
Carla nodded. “Yes, but she’s a real knockout when she’s finished. No matter what we’re up to, the guys always line up to show her a good time.”
“Not to mention the rest of us.” Lisa grinned. “I wish Jeannie could come out with us every night!”
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. All three women turned towards the elevator, happy smiles on their faces.
Then Gene York stepped out, his briefcase in one hand and a large suitcase in the other. He turned, hands full, and saw the trio waiting. He walked over to them, placed the suitcase carefully on the floor in front of him, and smiled.
"You wanted to go clubbing with Jeannie tonight," he said with a smile, then waved a hand at the suitcase on the lobby floor. "There she is. Have fun!"
"But ... but you're Jeannie!" Lisa seemed offended, as well as surprised.
"No, I’m not. I'm Gene." He pointed at the bag. "That's Jeannie." Then he tapped his head. "Well, a little bit of her is in here, but none of you seem to care about that part."
The women were stunned into silence. His smile faded a little bit, and Gene pushed the bag towards them with his foot. “Time’s a’wasting! Off you go, then!”
"But ... but you’re our friend!"
Gene shook his head. “Hardly. When I first joined the company, I tried to reach out and get to know people. But it was pretty clear no one wanted to know me, and getting rejected or ignored day after day got old really fast. After a while, I figured there was no percentage to chasing after folks, so I decided to keep mostly to myself. I did my job, and went home alone. I was lonely as hell, but it was what it was, and I didn’t see it changing any time soon.”
“Then I heard Lisa talking in the kitchen about how she thought no guy could ever pass as a convincing girl, and I thought, ‘Hey, this is a way to get them to finally notice me.’ I’d done it before as part of an acting class, in college, and I thought it could break the ice between us. It did ... up to a point. I went along with it for a while — until I realized what was really happening.”
“I figured out that Jeannie was your friend, not me. You made her feel welcome and cared for, even loved. Just us ‘girls,’ after all. But when I took off the dress and the make-up and went back to being Gene, everybody treated me like dirt. No smiles, no friendly words ... hell, everyone was so cold, it was like I was stuck in the middle of my own personal winter. It was worse than before. Almost like you blamed me for taking your friend away."
"What do you mean?” Lisa tooka step towards him, clearly confused. ‘We love you!"
Gene shook his head. "No, you don't. You could care less about me. You love her — the wig and the clothes and the attitude. So I brought her — well, minus the attitude. That part is mine, but I can’t seem to fit it in the bag with everything else. I hope that’s enough.”
The three women stared at the suitcase, unsure of what to do next. Gene sighed.
"Look, it’s simple. You only seem to want to be my friend if I pretend to be Jeannie. And you’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t think much of who I really am without all the trimmings. Since I happen to like me, and you love Jeannie, I guess she and I have come to a parting of the ways.” He grinned. “I hope you and she will be very happy together."
“She's a bit smaller than she used to be, without ... you know, me,” he continued, “but I don't think you'll mind. Trust me, since you're going to have to carry her from club to club, smaller and lighter is better. Just don't expect a lot of conversation. Without me around, Jeannie tends to be a bit ... shallow."
Carla stepped forward. “Wait! You ... you had fun. I know you did.”
Gene nodded. “Oh, yes, I did. I hated being lonely. It felt great to be a part of something again, to be wanted by somebody. I enjoyed it all.”
“So why stop?” Angie spoke softly, and he looked at her and tilted his head, just a little.
“Because it was a lie.” His voice was also soft, almost as if he was reluctant to finally put a stop to the closest thing he’d had to friendship in months. “I’m not Jeannie. I can never be her. And even if I could be, I wouldn’t. I’m not a woman inside, and I won’t pretend to be one just to chase being popular. I can’t. As Shakespeare once said, ‘To thine own self be true.’” He shrugged. “In the end, I guess that works for me. Even if my self goes home alone.”
There was a long silence, and finally Gene picked up his briefcase.
“You all have a good time tonight,” he said with just a hint of a smile in his voice. “Have a nice weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.”
He moved past the three women to the revolving door, hesitating a moment to catch it at the right point, then went through it out to the sidewalk. He didn’t look back.
‘That went well,’ Gene thought as he walked away. ‘They’ve got Jeannie and I’ve got me. Still, I’m not looking forward to being alone again.’
“Hey ... Gene?”
He stopped and turned. It was Angie, standing halfway between him and the door to the office building. She fidgeted a bit, then spoke quickly.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way we all treated you. It wasn’t right, and a part of me knew that.” Angie sighed. “I’ve had a lot of bad experiences with guys, and even though you seemed nice, you’re still ... well, still a guy. And I was afraid of getting too close to you, because I didn’t want to get hurt again. When you were Jeannie, I could be your friend without worrying about the guy thing at all. And when you were Gene, you reminded me that Jeannie wasn’t real — and I needed her to be real, so much.”
“And now?”
“Maybe I just realized that a guy who could walk a mile in a woman’s shoes without getting bent out of shape about it — well, he might not be the kind of guy who could hurt a woman the way I’d been hurt before. And what you did just now made me want to get to know you better. If it’s not too late to try.”
“What about Jeannie?”
“I’m starting to think the best part of her is standing in front of me now.” Angie looked into his eyes and gave him a small smile. “So ... are you free for dinner?”
He looked at her for a moment, then smiled back and nodded. “Strangely enough, there’s this huge opening in my social calendar. What do you like?”
“You choose,” she replied, stepping forward to stand beside him. “I’m thinking making choices is something you’re good at.”
They started walking together.
“I have my moments,” Gene said, his smile becoming a grin.
“I think maybe I do, too,” Angie replied with a grin of her own, and put her arm in his.
Another story made me wonder how people who claim to love you in one guise could treat you so badly in another, all without seeing the inherent contradiction in their own behavior. Still, since so much of human nature remains a mystery, I decided to give my hero a chance at redefining himself while putting that particular conceit to rest ... after a gentle scolding and without supper. *grin* Hope you enjoyed it! -- Randalynn
Comments
A Winter of Discontent
A short, to the point story that drives home a message.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
"Without me around, Jeannie tends to be a bit ... shallow."
...the same thing seems to be true for me; the folks I care about just adore my other half, but I'm pretty sure they'd react poorly if they even met this part of me. It's true all too often that we sorta compartmentalize our relationships. Still, I really liked the way this turned out. And still, like Gene? I have my moments.
Thank you!
She was born for all the wrong reasons
but grew up for all the right ones
Con grande amore e di affetto, Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
well
andrea, i think your a wonderful person and i for one think of you as a great friend
Amazing
Welcome to my world. My family is just like those women, only the reverse ... WE LOVE YOU DADDY - but don't show up as your legal self or you'll never see your grandchildren again.
You know what. I can't stand the little rugrats so in the end it wont matter to me what they think.
I always like your stories.
So this one was no exception. You made your point, vividly, and let it go.
Great job!
Maggie
Problem is the other guise is not real
so why do one think one should be entitled to be liked? So what is the message here, people should not be expected to like what you on the surface present to them as? The fact the other guise is not real is made plain here of course but for him to feel disappointed that people merely like him that way ... sorry not buying it. He deserved to be abandoned in my opinion. Jeannie should never have existed and it was a stupid thing to do, if you can't be socially accepted and liked on your own merits then don't blame the people who liked you the other way. Shallow, well shallow is only how you want to manage your relationship and apparently he did not want to shape the relationship into anything with depth because it does not come from within. Gene is therefore shallow by extension.
Kim
They knew Jeannie ...
... was only a performance, but they welcomed her and loved her while rejecting the man they knew was behind the costume. No one wanted to let Gene in before, and so he tried to break the ice with his impersonation. Instead of letting him in, they embraced HER and disliked HIM more for NOT being Jeannie. By choosing to give them the parts of their relationship they seemed to value (the parts that fit in a suitcase) and be true to himself, Gene chose to be who he was, even if it meant going home alone. I don't see how that makes him shallow.
On the other hand, the women chose to like someone just for the way he dressed and acted instead of who he was inside. To me, that shows there's barely enough depth in Carla and Lisa to float a toothpick. At least Angie saw someone she wanted to get to know better. *grin* In my humble opinion, of course.
Thanks for reading!
Randa
Think Louis Anne's "Summer of Changes" serial
Randa IMHO is saying "what if".
I have similar reservations on Louis's fine serial. The women unconscious and consciously conspire to feminize his from early on ... for his own good. Yeah, right. He's young and alone, they assume he must be "en fem" to attend "hen party" ... the first trap he falls into.
Then they manipulate him into a bridesmaid, then a female clothes model and eventually he decides he wants to be female though is reluctant about SRS. Through out it is "we love you Denise, yadayadayada," Never "we love you Denis."
So is it voluntary or it he desperately wants to fit in, have friend s and the women assume he wants to be female. Or is it worse on their part?
Randa's hero/heroine realizes a last they only want the enfem, the fake him., they care nothing for the real person, only their "Barbie Doll,"
Love it Randa.
John in Wauwatosa
John in Wauwatosa
another POV
You are so good at giving us the other point of view! That's a good thing because that makes us think. Thanks Randalynn!
hugs!
Grover
Wrappings
Or clothing are generally seen as a male obsession, the man being the one to react to the short skirt, or low cut embonpoint, etc. Here we see a neat twist on that one. Obviously, in UK slang, Jeannie was a bit of a lightweight.
Made me smile,anyway.
I've enjoyed all of your
I've enjoyed all of your stories so far, but this one comes the closest to my personal experience. I used to have "friends" who only wanted to see me in drag, and didn't care for my male self at all. Years on, and I don't care for him all that much either, but all of my friends accept both sides of me, or they're not my friends. Thanks for telling it like it is.
The most common form of despair comes from not being who you are. - Soren Kierkegaard
re:story
wonderful insight on human nature. i love the way you told it.
robert
Standing Up For One's Self
You write a good read, and in this little story and your recent "Slipping The Leash" the protagonist does what needs to be done to maintain their integrity.
You turn "forced femme" on its ear. How many times have I been mentally screaming at a character who is meekly accepting a situation that a simple "Enough" would stop?
Thank you for injecting a bit of backbone into your players, and for doing it in an entertaining way,
Joanne
Wonderful read
We're all in search of acceptance. Being accepted as someone we really aren't . . . is sad.
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
In-Gene-ious Randa.
Dear Randa,
I liked this enormously. Not only was it a tremendous read, but it did brilliantly that most difficult of things in this form of fiction - be different.
It is so rare because it is so very, very difficult. We write within narrow constraints that are endemic to TG/TV fiction.
There is so much sameness about. It is a problem that I find quite stifling in my own writing and it carries the added problem that the more one succeeds that fewer people tend to read/like it.
That at least is my experience. Your 'Winter of Discontent however manages to square that particular circle brilliantly.
Hugs,
this was...
... ridiculously short and yet damn near perfect. Almost an entire story in a couple of pars. The ending almost a segue into the future. As Fleurie said a rare thing, a 'different' take on a simple theme, you stand it on its head. Bravo.
Kristina
So, this is what good writing should be
Character development - check
Plot developmenmt - check
Touches people - check
Substance - check
Conflict and Resolution - check
Randalynn? you manage to take me within your stories to a level that I can experience them with you, the storyteller, and that is truly a gift. Thank you,
Diana
Thank you all!
It always feels wonderful when folks respond the way you did - the way I hoped you would. *smiles* This one took me a while to finish, despite being as short as it is. I toyed with making it longer, but I realized it didn't have to be, and when the ending came to me late last week, i ran with it.
Much love to you all, and I hope I can keep entertaining you. (I wonder if the muse takes bribes? *grin*)
Randa
Thank you Randa for this story
Thank you Randa for this story.
I appreciate a well crafted short story and understand how hard they are to do.
This one is a winner!
Kris
Kris
{I leave a trail of Kudos as I browse the site. Be careful where you step!}
What Everybody Said...
Neat, effective, a really great take on a well-known plotline, and the hero even gets the girl at the end. Very enjoyable.
Eric
Still One of My Favorites...
...a dozen years later. Came up as a Random Solo just now and I realized it had been a while since the last time I re-read it. As so many people said, a great story.
Eric
how did I miss this one?
oh well, I found it today, and like all your stories, it was amazing.
Short and sweet
I've read this story probably a dozen times, but never commented on it because there really wasn't anything to say about it that hadn't been said a dozen times already. I decided to comment now because I finally realized just why it is that this story resonated so well with me. In writing my own fictionalized autobiography, For God So Loved the World..., I relived a lot of my youth.
I was a miserable child, mostly because I thought that no one could ever like the real me... the girl I was inside. As I became a teenager, I could only get pseudo friends... acquaintances really. None of them liked the real me, because I never let them even know me. Later I tried making true friends, as myself, only to be rebuffed time and again, even by people who didn't know or care that I transitioned. No matter how much effort I put into building relationships, no one seemed to care enough about me to reciprocate. To this day, other than my family, I only have two friends, and they're both men who first knew me before transition and still liked me after. I have no girlfriends I can just 'hang' with.
Why am I saying all this? A previous comment suggested that Gene deserved to be lonely because he didn't earn it on his own merits... i.e. by being himself. That implies that only people who are worthy of being liked deserve it, which carries an unfortunate logical corollary; some people don't deserve to be liked, no matter what they do. While it may be true that some people, such as myself, aren't popular, it's not because I deserve to be lonely and friendless. It's the same old high school B.S. all over again... you're not 'cool', whatever that means, so you don't get any friends... which makes you even less 'cool'.
I connect with this story precisely because it demonstrates just how selfish and shallow most people are. I have no idea why other women won't ever just be a friend to me, and for many years I blamed myself for it... that maybe there was something I was doing or not doing that made them dislike me... but now I realize that it has nothing to do with me... it's them. I have merely accepted loneliness as a way of life. Yes, I have my family and they love me, but that's not the same. Sometimes a girl just needs to have a BFF she can talk to about stuff. All I have is places like this, and posting comments is only vaguely social. Most don't even get read.
So that's why I keep coming back to this story. It reminds me that I'm not doing anything wrong when I try to make friends and fail. Thanks Randalynn. You once again have written a story that helps people. :^)