Everyone is just trying so desperately to be a cliche
Security guy checking IDs at the entrance,
Lezzies with blue, short hair cuts,
Manager playing Justin Bieber's Boyfriend,
and me. Me who came through the back door.
Me with long, fake blonde hair wearing highheels.
Me who sits alone at the bar, knowing how every night would go.
Me, the most typical of them all.
the minute I say I'm a pre-op transgender, any woman who approached me gives me the look in their eyes
I don't know why I bother to come to a lesbian bar knowing that I'm never going to get laid.
Lesbians are the women who loves women. Real women. With pussy.
I don't have one. What I have between my legs is a disgusting piece of meat.
I'm a fake woman.
Newtown is a place where all the lesbians in Sydney gather on every Tuesday, Girl's night.
I don't belong here.
In the alley were the three men.
One of them checks me out.
"Hey gurl~ where you goin?"
Getting catcalled by men. This isn't going to be any good to me.
The other one offered me a rolled paper and a lighter.
As I keep my eyes straight and continues to walk, another blocks my way.
"Come on, be a game, chink"
"Just let me go"
"Woah, no ching chong ching chong?"
"I'm not looking for any trouble"
"What you looking for then. Isn't this the "laaaadie's" night?
"Hottie like you had no luck? That's not right"
"Yeah, I mean, what do they know. Those pussies with men's hair cuts? They don't know women, but we do"
"I got what they don't have. Guess what it is, miss"
"I'M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR IT!"
I ran, knocking a guy out of my way.
But my arm was grabbed, got punched in my stomach
"We was just taukking to ya, what's the rush?"
My breasts, squeezed
my dress, torn apart
my penis, touched
"What the fuck?"
said the guy who touched my penis.
"It's a fucking shemale"
The rest was typical.
Three men who got turned on by a tranny, got upset upon discovering my nature, started beating me up instead.
Lying on the floor, my sights were going dark.
And she was there.