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Looking foolish does the spirit good. The need not to look foolish is one of youth's many burdens; as we get older we are exempted from more and more, and float upward in our heedlessness, singing Gratia Dei sum quod sum. - Johm Updike


Thanks be to God that I am what I am

Sunday, May 27, 2012

TVTS


Let me tell you a little about the second hosting company I am now using.  One of the many things that I like about them is that PSOs have set characters that they play with callers instead of the free for all set up at the first hosting company.  Currently, I have three characters, with another in the works.  I am not going to give out the names of the characters here.  The names are selected by me from a list the hosting company makes available in an attempt to prevent duplicate names from appearing in their directory.  I have a general character who is definitely a geek girl, a Domme, and a TVTS character.  For those of you who do not know, TVTS stands for transvestite/transgender.  In other words, chicks with dicks.

Bloody hell, do I have a problem with that one.  First of all, I have very mixed feelings about how I feel about transgender people, especially transgender women.  More on that later.  Right now, I need to vent and that is the purpose of this blog.  I fucking hate transgender callers.  Now, I will explain that by 'transgender callers', I mean men wanting to have a fantasy about being with a transgender woman, not people who are actually transgender.  Having explained that, allow me to repeat that in a way that expresses my true feeling.  I FUCKING HATE TRANSGENDER CALLERS.  As a rule, they are the absolute worst asshats I deal with while I am working.  They are the most high maintenance (like the Acolyte), the most disgusting (also like the Acolyte), and pickiest pack of assholes on the lines.  The tend to equate the concept of being with transgender women as a licence to exercise the kinkiest, vilest, most violent fantasies they have and have the PSO pretending to be a transgender woman embrace their fantasies wholeheartedly and with an enormous amount of enthusiasm.  Try being creative and enthusiastic while trying not to vomit.  Come on, I fucking dare you.

My friend, YingYu, deals with transgender issues in a professional capacity and has tried to shed some light on this issue for me. Transgender people face a level of discrimination and violence that is literally unthinkable, except that it happens every day and is deliberately ignored in our culture.  They don't get the same protection  from the police that other minorities do, the same access to health care, the same employment and educational opportunities that the rest of us do.  Worst of all, in my opinion, they are viewed by most of the middle class white male population as walking fetishes.  They are seen by those men as living things who are not people, who exist only for the pleasure of the people who want to fuck them.  All of this I knew before my friend decided that I needed a crash course in transgender issues, though I did not say this to YingYu.  He's the goddamned expert I consulted and, dammit, I wanted an expert's point of view.  He asked me if I had never known any transgender people.  Yes, in fact, all women except for one.  He asked me how I met them.

Err, this is a story I don't like to relay to others.  My mother was, and I guess still is, a pretty hardcore feminist.  One year, while I was still a teenager and she and I were having serious communication issues, my mother decided that we would bond by attending a women's music festival.  It was, all in all, a disaster for our relationship.  None of the workshops addressed the problems I was having with her and I walked away from them, disheartened, not realizing that the pro-mother stance of mainstream feminism at the time, was engaging in a great deal of victim blaming when it came to the subject of mother-issues.  I was being told that my issues with my brilliant, selfish, ultimately insane mother were not because of her actions.  Oh no.  They were because I had been programmed by the patriarchy to not be able to see what a wonderful person she truly was.  I wanted her to just be a Mommy and give me everything I needed, instead.  I was the selfish one in our relationship.  I realize that this stance was not universal then and it is not universal now but, it was what I felt at the time.  While trudging across the quad, (the festival took place on a college campus) completely demoralized by my experiences with yet another workshop, a woman grabbed my arm and shoved a petition in my face.  I had walked into them middle of a political battle without even realizing it.

"Sign this," a woman screeched at me as she shoved a pen in my face.

I jerked back to avoid having my eye put out.  "What is it?" I asked as I read the top paragraph of the petition.

"The campus police won't remove them until we have a two thirds majority,"she said as she pointed to a group of miserably angry women across from us.  I couldn't put my finger on why but, that group stood out from the rest of us.  (They were much better dressed than the other women there) I read the petition while its carrier prattled on and realized what she was talking about.  They were trying to remove a small group of transgender women who had dared to believe that they had the right to attend a festival for women.  The Mommy Gestapo wanted them gone under the argument that the rules of festival stated that no men over the age of nine were admitted and they had no facilities to accommodate them.  They would refund the money they had paid to attend the festival but, the women could not stay.  I knew that even though my mother had very mixed feelings about transgender women, she would not condone this.  She also would not stand up to her fellow feminist sisters to defend their rights.  "I'm not signing this," I said as I shoved the clipboard back at her.

She goggled at me for a moment before starting her rant about how those people didn't belong at the festival.  They made women nervous and they wanted to 'dilute the issues' real women wanted to talk about.  To this day, I am not sure what exactly that meant.  My response was to grandstand; I announced that I needed to pee, grabbed the hand of the youngest transgender woman in the group and marched into the restroom.  I left the door to the stall open so the woman I kidnapped and the Mommy Gestapo could watch while I hiked up my ugly peasant skirt, dropped my panties and pissed.  I want to add one disqualifier to my courageous stand; I was high as a kite at that moment, thanks to a very cute girl who had been trying (really hard) to get permission to get under that ugly ass peasant skirt.  I had smoked her dope while still saying no without the slightest qualm.  Thank you, pot-smoking boy friend for teaching me the value of that trick.  It didn't solve anything other than to amuse the hell out of the transgender women who had followed their friend in to see what the hell I was going to do to her and piss off the petition waving Mommy Gestapo.

My mother found out about my stunt (but, not about the pot) and was advised to make sure I was instructed properly.  On what subject, I am not sure.  I pointed out that there must be something to the whole transgender thing, I mean who the hell would choose to be the member of a minority that is so divided and isn't even really acknowledged to be a real minority unless they felt they had to.  My mother agreed with me but, pointed out that some transgender women could be amazingly insensitive to the needs of real women.  It was a subject we had discussed before.  I pointed out that as a childless woman, much of what was being discussed had very little to do with my life, either.   And I didn't believe that those women were any more dangerous than some of the more predatory lesbians I had attracted.  If I had to fend off the attention of amorous lesbians without offending them, all week long in the name of sisterhood, sharing restrooms with a few transgender women was nothing.

Since then, I have known other transgender women and my feelings have remained mixed.  I want to be sympathetic and, for the most part, I am.  I hold with the belief that wanting to be a woman is not a privilege, as some feminists state, it is a horrible burden.  Being a woman right now is an incredibly hard row to hoe.  If a person feels so strongly that she has to be a part of my minority despite how hard it is, then all I can do is welcome her into our ranks and pray for the best for both of us.  At the same time, I have known transgender women who are incredibly hostile when dealing with other women and still claim male privilege when dealing with women.  I worked in an office with a transgender woman who would routinely talk over other women and make horrible, disparaging comments about us, especially our appearance.  If we returned the favor or demanded that she justify her behavior, she would blow a gasket and accuse us all of being prejudiced against her because she was transgender.  She also hated to have to listen to any woman in the office talk about her children.  If they did, she would interrupt and change the topic.  Now, part of that I can understand.  I strongly believe that every mother grossly overestimates how fascinating her children are to others but, I also didn't want to listen to her endless meandering debate about the next step in her transformation or the health risks involved.  Equally boring in my book.  I suspect that most transgender people go through a narcissistic stage where nothing seems as important to them as their own transformation.  And that process makes them very hard to deal with, for a period of time.

But, I didn't know about the fetish part of being a transgender woman or how widespread it was among men.  It just didn't occur to me.  I, rather stupidly it seems, thought that transgender women were of interest to gay men.  When I think about it, I feel as if I was being very narcissistic myself with that one.  Before working as a PSO, I never realized how many men who identify themselves as straight have fantasies about being with a man or a she-male.  And trust me, there are whole hell of a lot of middle age, middle class white males thinking about sucking dick.  I would guess that, on average, half of the calls I take are from men wanting to fantasize about being with another man or a woman with a cock.  They just want to do it with a woman present so that they don't 'feel' gay.  A few of them have admitted to me that they would be utterly terrified to act out their fantasies in real life. A few of them have proposed marriage to me when thinking that I was transgender.  Not once have I ever gotten the impression that any of these men, good or bad, see me as a person.  (The possible exception being the Acolyte who deserves an entire entry of his own.  Someday.  When I finally get over my ability to be grossed out, completely.) Which is not the experience I have had with all of the men I have talked to on other fetish lines.

Here's the thing: everyone has a type they get stupid over.  I do, my friends do, the callers I speak to do.  My type is very specific though it has actually expanded over the years.  I have a thing for stocky men of visibly Irish descent.  I could give examples but, I'm not going to.  My friends know what I am talking about.   Several of my friends have a thing for men of color and are completely baffled by my preference.  Phone sex is all about types; that's why the directories have a grocery list of different categories even though no phone sex line actually maintains pools of different PSOs.  They are lying to you, callers.  The Barely Legal Teen and the Cougar are probably the same woman.  Instead of being insulted and feel like you have been cheated, callers, you should be in awe of her talent and skills.  You should be thinking about what kind of fantasy she could spin for you if you are brave enough to let her run but, you're not.  That's why there are categories for you to choose from even though they are bullshit.

The thing is all of those categories mean the exact same thing to different callers.  Almost every caller is looking for the Extreme Slut.  He just picks a category he thinks will have the sluttiest women; Fat Chicks, Big Tits, MILF, whatever.  They aren't choosing a category based on their appreciation of a certain body type in a woman, they are choosing a category based on what they think is the most 'desperate to be fucked' kind of woman.  I guess I should be a lot more desperate and lower my standards into the basement.  Let me think about it.....No.  This woman is just fine with her standards as they are, thank you.

The think about TVTS callers that makes them different (and disgusting) is that they think the slut factor is a given.  In their minds, no transgender woman ever says no to anything.  And that is what they are looking for, a PSO who can put the X in Extreme.  Look, I know that it is really hard for the non-creative person to believe but, being creative happens to take a whole lot of time, energy and effort.  Doing so about a topic I find personally disgusting makes that effort akin to the sensation sandpaper on wet skin.  Dealing with a bunch of assholes who have decided that there type is not really a person, just a fuck toy who only exists for their pleasure, makes me want to bio-engineer a super-plague that targets self-centered, self-professed horny jerks.

Try, just for a moment, to envision the person you are fantasizing about as a person.  I am not talking about the PSO you are speaking to, I am talking about the image in your head.  Now, imagine what she would love to say about you and your disgusting bullshit to her friends.  Any sense of shame left there to burn your cheeks? God, I hope so.  Now, get this little factoid to lodge in whatever brains you have left...

A PERSON IS A PERSON IS A PERSON, no matter what gender they are.

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