Educating Britney

This last Christmas found me back in the US for a short visit with family over the holidays.

Whenever Sharon and I return to the States, we always try to get in a bit of shopping while we are there. You see, not only are the prices half of what they are in London, but we can also buy those product and brands that are just not available in the UK.

Jif peanut butter is one great example. Jif is great! It is smooth and creamy and just downright delicious! Now the Brits just don't understand peanut butter. Buy a jar of the stuff over here and you'll find a pool of skanky oil floating on the top of it that reminds you of some kind of toxic waste. Ick! But what would you expect from a country where people -willingly- eat Marmite?

So, there we were, foraging for supplies in that great hall of American consumerism known as K-Mart. This is a daunting task not for the feign of heart. I've actually felt the stirrings of a panic attack when confronted by the gazillions of unnecessary plastic objects all screaming out to be purchased. It's quite unnerving to have a Thighmaster crying out, "buy me, BUY ME!!!"

We had successfully navigated the hundreds of aisles of products, picking and choosing as we went, and were just rolling our cart up to the checkout lanes. It is always best to do this type of activity late in the evening to avoid the masses of crying children and grumpy parents. As a result, we found that there were only two checkout lanes open at the time of night. An older woman stood behind one, with a slightly longer line in front of her.

Britney stood behind the other.

Sharon and I rolled our cart up and started to disgorge its contents on to Britney's conveyer belt. As we dumped out our bulk purchases of otherwise standard household goods, Britney asked if we were going to the Artic Circle or somewhere equally remote. We told her "almost, we live in London", and then proceeded to explain how hard it was to find certain products overseas.

As we checked out, we continued our friendly banter with the young girl busily ringing us up.

Perhaps that was my mistake.

You see, my voice is my biggest tell. At its best, my voice sounds like Brenda Vaccaro after a bad whiskey and cigar binge. The truth is, I still sound like a guy. And that's what must have tipped Britney off…

She started to look at me a little more closely, trying to sort me out. She got just a little bit awkward then, as if she were talking with someone with three eyes and trying not to stare at them.

Sharon and I finished making our purchases at about this time, and we started for the door. We were about 50 feet away when I heard Britney say to the other checkout woman, "Hey, Lynn! That was a man! Yeah, that one… Him. I swear it!"

Ouch.

Personally, like most of us I hate being outted at anytime. But I find it particularly annoying when it's done by a 17-year old high school student who shouts my private business to her co-workers and a checkout lane full of other customers.

I continued to walk to the door, Sharon by my side and a room full of eyes on my back.

After we left the building, I stopped Sharon and asked her to take the cart back to the car by herself. She had also heard Britney, and she was a bit worried about me. I reassured her, and then I headed back into the store by myself.

I tried to compose myself as I walked back to the checkout lanes. Each of those people who had been staring at my back was now nervously looking at the floor, the walls, or anywhere except at me. Poor young Britney had her back to me, and as a result didn't know that I was returning until I was standing at her side.

"Excuse me, but I need to have a word with you", I said to her.

She turned to see who was addressing her, and as she recognized me she visibly blanched.

"I need to speak with you", I repeated. I then asked her to step a few feet away from the others so that we could have at least some modicum of privacy.

"Britney, what you did really hurt my feelings."

At first she tried to deny having said anything. But after I explained that we could either keep this an issue between the two of us, or we could include management if she preferred, she relented and agreed to speak honestly with me.

She admitted that she had never met anyone like me and that it kind of shocked her when she first realized that I was a transsexual. I told her that I understood that it could be a bit unsettling at first, but then I pointed out that she wouldn't do the same thing if it had been a person in a wheelchair, or someone with an artificial limb. I then explained that my condition was simply a form of birth defect, and that my change was nothing more than my trying to fix the problem.

We spoke for a few more minutes, as the others watched from a distance. When we finished, I really felt that I had connected with that young woman. And then it was her turn to surprise me.

Britney took a step forward, put her arms around me, and gave me a spontaneous hug. She told me that she was sorry for hurting my feelings and that she would think about the things I had told her.

As we parted and said our goodbyes, I turned and headed back for the door. It was all I could do to keep from crying as I left the store.

So, in closing, let me just say "thank you" to Britney for giving me hope that the next generation just might get the message.

-Jessica