April 30, 2024

I knew a Great Dane named Duke once. Duke belonged to one of my friends named Cassie and he was incredibly protective of her around men. One time, we were all hanging out at Cassie’s house on Halloween. One of the boys Cassie had a crush on was invited over for this little get together. After walking around town for a little while, we decided to go back to her house and watch a horror movie. When we got into the living room, Cassie sat on the couch, and me being the good friend I was, I sat on a different chair so she could sit next to the boy. When she sat down, the boy went to sit next to her, but Duke had other plans. He jumped up on the couch right next to Cassie, knocking the poor guy over in the process. When he got back up, he sat right next to the dog. And Duke proceeded to stare at him for the entire duration of the movie. Never once looking away. I liked Duke. Even though at the time I presented as a “boy”, Duke just kind of ignored me. I wasn’t Cassie who needed to be protected, but he also didn’t feel the need to protect Cassie. 

The Duke that I know now, isn’t a dog. He’s a regular customer at the Gas Station I work at. He’s your typical blue-collar guy for the most part. He’s tall, rough scraggly facial hair. He’s got a bit of a beer gut but overall, I’d say from years working in manual labor he’s pretty built. That being said, from years living out here and getting all his news from Fox and his Facebook feed, he’s not a very kind person. And I think I’m currently near the top of his shit list. His hatred for me started with him hitting on me. When I first started working at the gas station, he would stop by late during my shift to buy some beer. The first time he saw me he clumsily dropped his 6 pack of Miller Lite on the counter and said, “Damn you’re a pretty thing, why are you working in a shithole like this?” 

Now, I don’t know about the rest of the women in the world, but none of the women I know like to be called a “thing” even if the adjective describing said “thing” is positive. 

As he was digging in his wallet in the deepest voice I could muster, I said

“Not a fan of Miller Lite, so no thanks.” Which isn’t really a great comeback. In fact, I had only turned 18 a couple months before, and being the good Christian that I was, I’d never had any beer. In fairness to myself, I was young and didn’t understand that responding to a man like that, even with halfhearted sassiness, is dangerous. After my comment I grabbed his change out of my drawer and looked up to see the angriest looking tomato I’d ever seen in my life. “So, you’re a queer then?” he said through clenched yellow teeth. I put his change on the counter and slid it over to him. He snatched it off the counter and stomped out the door leaving me with a “Fuck you, fag.”

I looked over at Tish who had just popped out from behind one of the shelves in the back of the store. She said, “Do you want me to go fuck him up?” and I just broke down in tears. She rushed over and gave me a hug. I thought at that point I had grown a tough skin when it came to the way I was treated. I grew up with a family my entire life that was incredibly condescending, hard to please, and would never see me for who I was. Up to that point, I’d never been faced with that level of outright hatred from someone. “I’m so sorry honey.” Tish said as she was wiping my running mascara. “You’ll never have to deal with him again.” And she really did hold true to that. Every time he comes in, he’ll try and say something to me. Usually it’s something hateful or some “fact” he read on Facebook about trans people, and Tish takes over and puts a stop to it. 

Sometimes Tish isn’t there and I have to deal with him. And when he gets to talk to me one on one, he usually likes to stand there for at least half an hour. I’ve gotten into the habit on nights like this of standing there and just nodding and smiling. I feel like as long as I don’t say anything in retaliation, it’ll stop him from treating me the way he did the first day. I wish this Duke was more like the dog Duke. That way, he would just leave me alone and let me live my life. That’s all I really want right now, is to have the freedom to live my life and figure out where I belong in it.

Thank you once again for allowing me to yap, friend.

-Hope