24
How do we find unity in diversity?
THE INTERLOPER
The silhouette struck me wrong
Height too tall. Shoulders too broad.
So I looked for clues
now confirmed by stubble and the apple in his throat
There was a man in the ladies room today
He was washing his hands at the sink.
As I walked past I wondered
had he strayed through the wrong door?
When I appeared,
he was strangely unstartled
as if he expected me.
I kept walking toward a stall
to avoid embarrassing him.
I listened for the water to stop.
It didn't.
As I puzzled, I could hear him
pumping the soap dispenser.
I did what I came to do
then rejoined him at the adjacent sink.
He was STILL washing his hands.
I glanced. They were immaculate.
His wry smirk made me wonder
was this a prank?
His elegant hands mirrored each other
Sliding through the suds
with the grace of a sacramental ritual
I could feel he was acting
This was a rehearsal.
Usually I'm bubbly, greeting everyone
But he pretended I was invisible
So I deferred to an unspoken protocol
Readied a smile and waited for his acknowledgment
When none came
I pretended he was invisible too
for my comfort,
not his
It was the pink pearl barrette
As I walked to the towel dispenser
I noticed it adorned his pony tail
The puzzle pieces all snapped together
Moral panic flushed my cheeks
The room got brighter
My instincts exploded into fear and fight
I was balls-to-the wall battle-ready
The “dangerous other” myths kicked in
Is this man trans?
What if he’s a predator?
Is he practicing being a woman?
Did a doctor tell him to do this?
What if he’s a predator?
Maybe it’s required before sex reassignment surgery?
What if he’s a predator?
As I stood inside this madness
the worst accusation of all:
Mary, you are a shameful hypocrite
Lady Macbeth was still washing his/her hands?