Larry and Mick Explore Gender Fluidity

 

“What are you thinking, Larry?,” said Mick.

 

“I’m thinking...” said Larry.

 

“What?,” said Mick.

 

“I want to be a woman,” said Larry.

 

Mick looked at Larry in that way that you look at someone who you’ve known for many a year, who says something not entirely unexpected, but which you still weren’t really expecting.

 

“Like, for realsies?,” said Mick.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“I said, ‘Like, for realsies’...”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It’s something the young folk say.”

 

“I have never heard anyone of any age say it.”

 

“That doesn’t mean they don’t say it.”

 

Larry looked at Mick in that way that... well, you know.

 

“If you mean,” said Larry, “do I mean it, then yes, I mean it.”

 

“But how?,” said Mick.

 

“Surgery,” said Larry. “Or magic.”

 

“I feel that magic may be a less permanent solution.”

 

“Then magic it is.”

 

...

 

The person with the robe and the beard and the big floppy hat, who in no way styled himself on Albus Dumbledore from the Harry Potter series of books and movies, considered the proposal of these two muggles standing before him.

 

“A woman, you say,” said Ulbas Dombledure (for twas the wizard’s name), in a voice which sounded neither masculine nor feminine.

 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” said Larry.

 

“Just a simple Transfiguration spell should do it,” said Ulbas. “Unless...”

 

“Unless what?”

 

“Unless by ‘woman,’ you are referring not to your desired anatomical sex, but rather the gender which you socially and psychologically identify with.”

 

“Um...”

 

“Well...?”

 

“I think...”

 

“Oh I haven’t got all day...” said Dombledure, as he/she started waving his/her wand around.

 

“Wait!,” said Mick.

 

“What is it, young fella me lad?,” said Ulbas.

 

“Having known young Larry for more than twelve and a half years, I fear that his hesitation suggests some degree of doubt has crept into his nascent desire to become a, as it were, ‘woman’.”

 

“So why are you wasting my time?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Clear off then, I’ve got things to do.”

 

“Yes, Mr-...”

 

“Mx.”

 

“How do you pronounce that?”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Um...”

 

“Teleportation Spell!”

 

And the wizard was gone.

 

...

 

"What now?," said Mick.

 

"I could just wear women's clothes," said Larry.

 

"You could," said Mick. "But wouldn't that merely represent a desire to express just the visible aspect of the social construct which can loosely be defined as 'femininity'?"

 

"True dat," said Larry. "Although..."

 

"Although what?"

 

"I do like the feel of silk on my skin."

 

"Perv."

 

"Takes one to know one."

 

"You should know."

 

"Let's go shopping..."

 

Larry and Mick went shopping.

 

...

 

“What’s this?,” said Larry.

 

“A gender identity shop,” said Mick.

 

“I haven’t noticed this one on the High Street before.”

 

“It’s where the KFC used to be.”

 

“Well you know what they say...”

 

“When one fried chicken shop closes...”

 

“A gender identity shop opens.”

 

“Actually I don’t think they do say that.”

 

Larry looked at Mick the way a small child looks at his parents when they have just told him there isn’t a Toilet Roll Pixie, who magically replenishes the toilet rolls whenever they run out (or was that just me?).

 

Mick shrugged.

 

Larry started looking at the boxes on the shelves of the gender identity shop (which was called, perhaps unoriginally, The Gender Identity Shop). He stared reading off the labels...

 

“Trans-man... trans-woman... non-binary... agender... bigender...”

 

“Can I help you, sir-slash-madam?,” said the sales assistant, who had just very stealthily approached, as if by magic.

 

“I think so,” said Larry. “I’m looking for a new...”

 

“Gender identity?”

 

“Possibly.”

 

“Have you considered using magic?”

 

Larry turned and looked at the sales assistant for the first time. He/she had a robe and a beard and a big floppy hat.

 

“Are you...?,” started Larry.

 

“Orberfarth Dombledure, brother of the famous (although some say a little egotistical) wizard and headmaster of Hagwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft and Plumbing...?”

 

“Plumbing?”

 

“They’re expanding, I believe. Twenty-first century and all that.”

 

“Oh... well... yes, I think so.”

 

“You think what?”

 

“I’ve forgotten.”

 

“Oh-em-gee!,” said Mick, who had just looked at the sales assistant for the first time.

 

“What?,” said Larry and Orberfarth simultaneously.

 

“Are you...?,” started Mick.

 

“Orberfarth Dombledure, brother of the famous (although some say a little egotistical) wizard and headmaster of Hagwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft and Plumbing...?”

 

“No, I thought you were someone else,” said Mick.

 

Larry and Orberfarth looked at Mick as if he had just walked into a room full of vegetarians and asked if anyone would like a bacon sandwich. Or a kebab. Or a slice of bread fried in lard.

 

“So,” said Orberfarth to Larry, “are you still questioning or have you settled on a gender identity you feel comfortable with?”

 

“Well...” said Larry.

 

The pause was expecting twins.

 

“I do like the look of those umbrellas,” said Larry.

 

He was indicating the ones in an umbrella stand in the corner of the shop, which were rainbow-hued and said Transgender on them.

 

“They are nice,” said Orberfarth. “Though rather vague.”

 

“How can an umbrella be vague?,” asked Larry.

 

“They are metaphors denoting the parent category for all the non-conventional gender identities we sell.”

 

“So they don’t keep out the rain?”

 

“Sorry, no.”

 

“Fair does, but I like rainbows, so I’ll take one anyway.”

 

“Okay, one Transgender umbrella... and...?”

 

“And what?”

 

The sibling of the wizard whose name and style were very similar to that of the most famous wizard in the world (apart from the son of Lily and James Potter, aka ‘The Boy Who Lived’) forcefully indicated the boxes on the shelves.

 

“Oh those,” said Larry. “I dunno, I just can’t decide.”

 

“I know it can be confusing,” said Orberfarth.

 

“What can you recommend?,” asked Larry.

 

“In order to provide a considered and worthwhile recommendation,” said Orberfarth, “I shall have to ask you a series of questions.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“So...”

 

“Can I just interject?,” interjected Mick.

 

“You just did,” said Larry and Orberfarth in unison.

 

“So I did,” said Mick. “Well I was wondering if I could pop next door for a Mocha Chocca, since this is taking longer than I expected...?”

 

“Will you go anyway?,” asked Larry and Orberfarth.

 

“Probably,” said Mick.

 

Larry and Orberfarth flapped their hands in an off-you-go-then gesture.

 

“Laterz,” said Mick.

 

“So then,” said Orberfarth to Larry; “do you prefer pink or blue?”

 

“Neither,” said Larry.

 

Orberfarth tapped on the tablet Larry hadn’t realised he/she had been holding.

 

“What do you think of football?,” asked Orberfarth.

 

“Too sweaty,” said Larry.

 

Tap.

 

“Do you like cars?”

 

“Only ones with eyelashes on the headlights.”

 

Tap.

 

“Guinness or Prosecco?”

 

“On what day of the week?”

 

“Interesting...”

 

Tap-tappety-tap.

 

“And finally, what was your relationship with your mother like?”

 

“Can I refer you the digital book I wrote, My Mother, The Peacock and I...?”

 

“Certainly... do you have a link?”

 

Larry took the tablet off Orberfarth and...

 

Tap-tappety-tap-tap-tap.

 

“Thank you,” said Orberfarth, upon reclaiming the tablet.

 

“Is that it?,” queried Larry.

 

“Yup.”

 

“So what do you recommend?”

 

“Just a mo...”

 

Tap-tappety-tap-tap-swipe-tappety-double-tap-swipe-lick.

 

“Did you just lick your tablet?”

 

“No.”

 

“So...?”

 

“I recommend gender fluid.”

 

“Sounds good. I’ll take one.”

 

“We’re doing a twofer on gender fluid at the mo. Would your friend like one?”

 

“Why the heck not?,” said Larry.

 

Larry and Mick explored gender fluidity.

 

[ fin ]