My second face session went even better than the first. After all the new people at Planned Parenthood the other day, we got a new nurse here who kinda rocked to be honest; she seemed like a person it might be cool to know. She marveled at the confidence I had walking in, “this little gothic steam-punk diva.” Which was, uh, one way to put it I guess.

We’re making progress, but there’s not much to really talk about yet. At best we’re like a quarter or a third done. And it’s working! Just gotta keep on keeping on.

The return though, mask all full of the smell of burnt hair—I didn’t even make the bus before the misadventures began. First I swear to God I got a wolf whistle from a car as I crossed the street. Then while I sat at the stop, under the little bus-gazebo structure, whatever it is, there was the, uh, social interaction.

This guy ambled up from my right—and to his credit, he did keep his distance.

“Excuse me miss,” he said, “I wonder if I could have a word with you.”

I felt this boulder in my stomach. Here we go. What do we do here? “… Er, thank you so much for expressing an interest,” I said, “but no, I’m okay.”

He boggled at me. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I nodded. After a beat I asked, “Are you okay?”

He was flustered but determined. “I just want to get to know you,” he said.

And well, fuck. There it was. “Well I’m very flattered,” I said, “but that’s all right. I’m not—I don’t do that sort of thing.” I tried so very hard to keep my calm, to get ahead of the situation, to use an affirming, if firm, tone. This is not a scenario where I want to mess with a male ego.

Even so, he was getting frustrated. “What sort of thing? All I want to do is get to know you,” he repeated.

“Yes, well, thank you for the gesture, seriously.” I made a point of looking right at him, leaning in. Acknowledging what he was doing, even as I refused to entertain it. “But right now I’d really prefer to just keep my space.”

Ultimately he did back off and leave me alone, though it took a few rounds to make myself clear—if the bus hadn’t arrived just then I’m not sure how long this would have continued to drag on. He boarded right after me, and sat behind somewhere, putting me on a sort mild alert the whole ride home. I wasn’t sure exactly where he was, or when he meant to get off. I continued to document things as I sat, just for… reasons.

And I made it home fine. There were no further events. I don’t want to make more of it than it was. I mean, he did keep several paces away. He did actually say hello and ask if we could talk. And in the end he did accept that I wasn’t having it. But gee was he assertive. I’m so bad at people stuff anyway—and I expect learning to navigate eager horny dudes is hard for anyone, never mind this timid autism space cadet girl here.

There’s this diplomatic balance. I feel a need to handle male pride very carefully, because—it’s probably fine, but, well, things have been known to happen at times. And being trans only heightens the danger. Socially I’m not good enough to really have a sense about any of this, so it’s just this blanket caution I’m trying to exercise. Not paranoia, but… one will be mindful.

Anyway. I guess this is my life now. These are the decisions one makes. I can’t control other people; I can only work on myself. So I’d better figure some shit out.

Which isn’t to suggest I never got this kind of thing before—just, uh, not from dudes, typically. Only very occasionally. But I didn’t know what to do about horny allos then, and it freaked me out even coming from women. The exact dynamics here are… perhaps a little more treacherous. And gee whiz are they continuous. Going outside is kind of this whole thing for me lately.

I don’t want people being horny on me. I don’t care who they are. I’m just Azure. There are, I am certain, plenty of other horny people toward whom you might better direct your energies. Nothing’s ever going to happen here. Allos go home.