Trishelle Albeta, a female who was born male, was accidentally misgendered at a 7-11 attached to a Chinese restaurant in Riverview, but was not offended.
“I get it, I look kind of like a man still, I’m not that great at make up yet.” Said Albeta, while peeling a banana and taking a large bite out of the middle section.
“I couldn’t believe it, I was ready to have my life flipped upside-down when I accidentally called her a guy, but surprisingly she was totally understanding and didn’t bat an eye!” Said Kelvin McDonald, the culprit who accidentally committed the social faux pas.
“I saw her exiting the 7-11 from behind and noticed she left her Slim Jim by the leave-a-penny dish and I said, ‘hey brother you left your Slim Jim’ then she turned around and I realized it was a woman and all of the blood drained out of my body and I turned completely white. I almost passed out!” McDonald said, still visibly excited and relieved from not losing his career.
“I’m a senior member of the KKK, and that’s already a big strain on me and my family, and we couldn’t afford to have another controversy come into our lives.” McDonald sighed while spit-shining his Timberland boot
“My wife stays with me because I give her a weekly allowance of $2,000 but I know she would leave if anything else made our lives harder and I’m so happy this didn’t hurt us.” McDonald said, now getting into his Lyft on the way to his hate-group meeting.
It was just me and Trishelle now hanging out in front of the 7-11.
“Pretty crazy they made me show up and interview you both right now.” I nervously laughed, trying to make conversation.
“Yea, how did you even hear about this?” Albeta asked.
“Well, we have a Tampa News Force psychic on staff who alerts us immediately any time news happens.” I explained.
“It puts us ahead of our competitors. They listen to police scanners and stuff, we have psychics and witch doctors, and shamans, that point us in the direction of the juiciest scoops.” I shared.
Albeta didn’t look interested.
“That’s great.” Albeta said, looking bored, scanning the landscape everywhere that wasn’t me.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, you’re just really, really boring.” Albeta said to me, as politely as she could.
“It’s ok, I get that a lot.” I shyly retorted.
“Have you thought about getting a sex change?” Albeta thoughtful proposed.
“Here, check out this pamphlet.” Albeta then handed me a thick colorful pamphlet that said “LBGTQ+ Agenda.”
The pamphlet was full of literature on how the homosexual community planned on brainwashing children and selling makeup and feminine products to all Americans.
“Is this for real?” I asked.
“No!” Albeta laughed, then grabbed the pamphlet back from me.
“It’s a joke!” She cackled.
“I carry this around to mess with homophobes, kind of like a prank.” She said.
“Oh, that’s funny!” I said, sharing a laugh with her.
Then we made eye-contact and I asked her for her number.
She gave me her phone number, but I called it later that night when I got home and it was the suicide hotline.
I thought she was pranking me, but Albeta was actually on the other end of the line.
“The phone line said it was the suicide hotline.” I questioned.
“Do you work for the suicide hotline?” I asked.
“Yes!” She responded with a brief laugh.
“This way we can chat, while I get paid to work!” She gleefully reacted.
“Cool!” I said.
Then we talked all night and we had a lot in common but I couldn’t get over the fact that she didn’t have a vagina yet.
“You’re real cool, but I’m pretty sure I enjoy putting my male genitalia inside of vaginas only, and I’m afraid to attempt sticking it in anything else.” I told her.
“I understand.” She said with a sigh of dispair.
“You either want it or you don’t, and there’s always the option to try, but if you’re not open to it, it’s not on me to talk you into it, you have to come to that decision on your own.” She respectfully acknowledged.
“Yea… That’s true.” I said, prefacing a long pause between us on the phone.
“Well, our relationship doesn’t have to be sexual!” Albeta compromised.
“Yea, you’re right! We can just go to the shooting range and eat Chinese food together.” I offered.
“Yea totally!” Albeta agreed.
Since the writing of this article, Trishelle and I have been on three friend dates.
Unfortunately the spark fizzled out a little bit after coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t going to be sexual.
That has nothing to do with our respective genders though, sometimes people just lose interest when the possibility of sex disappears.
But we still comment on each others FaceBook and stuff, so we interact casually, digitally, but we haven’t made plans to have a fourth in-person meeting.