Today, I wore a T-shirt that says "End Trans genocide"

Story one:

I wore it into a bike shop that, frankly, reeks of testosterone. It's very masculine, the kind of place that stopped wearing masks before the law allowed, that only employs manly men.

The owner, a burly, bald man about sixty years old turned to me. "You support trans rights?" The workers in the shop nudged each other, grinning, waiting for my answer.

"I do."

"Here, I got something to show you," said the owner. I was very nervous. I just wanted my bike repaired. Not to be.preached at.

The owner of the shop typed some things into his computer, and brought up a web page. It was him, wearing a wig, against a blue and pink background. ( http://www.andyandrogyne.com/music ) "I deejay at the West Hollywood Halloween celebration every year." He then talked with me about his femmesona, his trans* girlfriend, and how he wished that he were younger so that he could transition.

So, if you need your bike repaired in West LA along Venice Boulevard, I recommend The Bike Shop California.

Story two:

Not everyone is pro-trans. I got cussed at on the train. I got away.

For many good people, transgender isn't something they take off like a t-shirt.