gender trouble

Last night we went to J's local bar. It's a karaoke bar, you see, and I hadn't been there, and J has praised it ongoingly throughout the years. He sang Folsom Prison blues. Well I know I had it comin' / I can't be free. We had a couple of drinks and then we left. When we were already walking on the street, a big, burly man hollered at us: "so what are you? a man or a woman?" J and I looked at each other and laughed. Who was he addressing? We grabbed a pizza while the man must have dwelled deep in contemplation.

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My sister told me the following story: A party ("kalas!") to celebrate my aunt's 70th birthday. The local restaurant. Steak and brown sauce. Our relative K is already wobbling around, visibly befuddled by drink. He was a business man, but he is probably retired now. He lives in Stockholm and he talks like Vanheden (de ska va lite stil, serrö). He approaches my cousin, who is rarely seen in the Villige. My cousin had lots of kids. Basically, I know nothing about her except that she has a bunch of them kids. Our dear K has a look at the new baby "It's so hard with them, it's so hard to see what they are. Is this is a boy or a girl?" My cousin snaps: "OF COURSE YOU CAN SEE IT'S A GIRL! She wears a dress and she's got a pink ribbon in her hair!"

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I've been given a gender neutral Hong Kong name. Mar Leeman. The name bears the promise of martial arts skills and cool stuff in general. I'd love to mar the landscape.