Short stories: Inspirational

KRISTEN: THE GAY FROM FRISCO

I got sick and was “confined” at home for 3 months. Since i could not go to the parlor I asked for the parlor to come to me. Kristen was to give me perm and a pedicure. My eyes popped out of their sockets when I saw Kristen for the first time. He/she was already in the living room when i came down – it was late to send him/her away.

Kristine looked tall, slender, meticulously dressed in soft pants and over blouse. He/she wore a scent I could not stand, and had some make-up on. He/she wore leather sandals and ten pedicured toes peeped out of the shoe straps. He/she stood up as I approached.

“Good afternoon, Mader. I’m Kristen and I was sent here to do you hair. Let’s begin right away; two customers are still waiting to be home-serviced.” Oh, he/she was glib of tongue! As a matter of fact, he/she chatted endlessly as his/her long, manicured hands flew from my hair to the utility tray that held his/her paraphernalia.

“Shall I call you Mr. or Miss?” I asked

“Call me KRISTEN: THE GAY FROM FRISCO; I am a man but i feel like a woman, and I prefer to be a woman if given the chance to be born again,” he/she said.

His/her voice was husky, but her wrists were limp. He/she has ambitious, too, just like anyone of us, I told myself.

“I’m trying to save as much as I can, Mader (how I detest this address!); sell my part of the parlor in San Francisco del Monte; leave for FRISCO in California and join my friend Nicole(another Gay) in a similar business venture. God willing, I can send dollars home for the education of my only child – a third grader in one of the exclusive school in Davao City in Philippines.”

“Are yore parents happy about you being gay?” I inquired.

“Oh, at first they drove me out of the house. They took me back when I gave them a grandchild and my job put food on our table. Besides, they maybe sad, but I’m happy and that’s more important, as far as I’m concerned. There, I’ll be back after5 1 1/2 hours. I will give a manicure to a customer in the next block. It takes a long time to do your hair.”

And with that, he/she gathers his/her bag, his/her fan and umbrella, “re-touched” his/her make-up and dashed out of the door, his/her hips swaying as he reached for the service gate and out to the street for his ride.

He/she left me in deep thought.