I went to visit a crossdresser friend (Tammy) yesterday to try out some her newly-written music, which mean taking the subway across town at night en femme, carrying my violin with me. On the way home—already well past my bedtime—a man sat down nearby. (You can always tell which ones want to flirt: they sit too close in a near-empty train, but have enough common sense not to sit immediately next to you; they don’t take their eyes off your chest or legs; and they try to act too manly.) Soon after he started chatting up with me. “Hey gorgeous! What’ya got in there? A machine gun?” [giggle] “A rocket launcher?” [snort] “Like in the movies?” I gave him a dirty look, frowned, shook my head and left the train. It was my stop anyway.
On behalf of all violinists around the world, for the billionth time, it’s a frigging violin! The joke wasn’t funny the first time, and it’s not funny now.
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