Bethany's First Bra

1
I think it was on our third date that I first learnt of Greg's 'preferences'. We were sitting in the cafe, having just seen the latest Woody Allen film, discussing whether it was funny or not. [I thought it wasn't. He loved it.] There was a few seconds' silence, save for the sound of the other people chatting, and the radio up at the counter. Tegan and Sara were singing "You Wouldn't Like Me."

"Here's an idea", Greg said. "We'll play 'You Wouldn't Like Me'. Right now, right here, we get to confess, one at a time, stuff you're insecure about in yourself; things we think 'hey, if it gets out, this date is history'. That way, we bring it out into the open and we don't have to sit here worrying about it."

I was a bit reluctant at first, but there was something about him that made me play along. Maybe, I thought, he's got something big to say, and this is his way of leading up to it.

He revealed his love for German Krautrock. I [quietly] revealed my silly teenage girl love for East 17. He revealed that he has his laundry done professionally because he doesn't know how to work the washing machine. I told him how I actually thought Woody Allen had sucked for the past two decades. He told me how he can't eat strawberries without spending a day on the john. I told him, giggling, how seafood gives me flatulence. We laughed together.

Then he grew more serious. "Jayne, I've got to tell you this next one. And if you put your coffee down, walk out, and delete me from your life, I won't blame you." He looked around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. "I'm a... transvestite."

"What?"

"Y'know." He mouthed the next words quietly. "Women's clothes. Underwear."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "...what *sort* of women's clothes?"

"Eh?"

"Say... a night out on the town, a day out in the country or a night in with someone special?"

"Ummm... ahhhh..." he stuttered; I think he'd expected me to be angry or dismissive, but certainly not curious.