Setting: Park bench
(Lute enters, sees Sissy sitting on one side of the bench. She is reading. He approaches the bench and stands in front as if preparing to sit. He crouches slightly, but doesn't sit on the bench. Sissy tries to keep reading, but she struggles with it because this man is crouching slightly on the other side of the bench. Lute looks at her, catches her eye.)
(Lute stays slightly crouched, he isn't doing anything in particular, looking around, checking his watch, this goes on for a while with Sissy trying her damnedest to get back to her book)
Lute: Umm... yes.. uh.. excuse me? But do you know what time it is?
Sissy: Ummm... it's, let's see... ten past five.
Lute: (checking his own watch, Sissy listens to everything he says, politely nodding, etc...) I knew it must be, this thing's always five minutes fast... (business with watch, readjusting, mumbling)
Lute: Doesn't matter, you know... I just set it this morning, and, now, within nine hours, it's five minutes fast! Always happens...
Lute: It wouldn't be so weird; except, one hour from now, it'll be five minutes fast again, and if I never touched it again, it'd still be five minutes fast.
Lute: You know, 'cause if it goes five minutes fast in an hour, you'd figure it'd be ten minutes fast after two hours... like that... but it doesn't... just stays at five minutes fast...
Lute: I know it seems so odd... I think it must have been manufactured like a couple degrees of longitude east of here... you know, like five minutes ahead of where we are... according... according to the sun... (pause) five minutes... fast.
(long pause again)
Lute: (standing up straight from his slight crouch, turning toward her) I'm Lute, by the way... I don't think I caught your name...
Sissy: Yes... hi, Lute?
Lute: Yeah, like the instrument.
Sissy: The instrument?
Lute: Ummm... like an old-fashioned guitar, from the Middle Ages... and it...
Sissy: Oh! The one with the bent neck...
Lute: (Overlapping) it has the bent neck... (not overlapping) Right!
Sissy: Sorry, I know what a lute is; you said "instrument", and I was thinking about ... like... medical sorts of instruments. Not musical.
Lute: Oh no, nothing medical about a lute! (laughing at his attempted humour)
Sissy: Right... right... I know that... right... yes.... right...
Lute: So, what was your name?
Sissy: Oh, sorry, right... ummmm... my name's Sissy.
Lute: Sissy! Hi! That's a great name!
Sissy: Thank you.
Lute: You know, for a girl.
Sissy: Right, like me.
Lute: Hate to be called Sissy if I was a boy!
Sissy: Uhhh... yes... I guess that would...
Lute: Bad enough being Lute!
Sissy: Ohh, I'm sorry.
Lute: Not your fault; it wan't easy though. Kids really picked on me.
Sissy: Kids are like that.
Lute: Called me "guitar", "banjo", "violin", "asshole", "faggot"... stuff like that...
Sissy: Uhh.. sure... kids can be really mean.
Lute: Sometimes they'd punch me in the face... or the stomach.
Sissy: Ohhh... that's... that's no good...
Lute: No, it wasn't.... (stares off for a while, quickly snaps back) Sorry... you probably didn't need to know all that about me. I just have this way of letting out too much about myself, sometimes.
Sissy: No... don't worry... hey, no big deal. I like hearing about... some things.
Lute: I should probably just leave.
Sissy: No... no, you don't have to.
Sissy: Yeah! Sure... just sit... ummm... sit down right there.
Lute: (does the weird little crouch, back straight, with his butt only lowered a slight bit toward the bench's seat) Thank you... there, that's nice, sitting next to you, you seem like a very nice woman.
Sissy: Thank you... ummm... just... well, thank you.
Lute: This is really a very nice park... I come here a lot... how about you?
Sissy: (she is caught in wondering about why he's crouching like that) Ummm... yes?
Lute: You do? That's neat... I'm surprised I haven't seen you before today.
Sissy: What... uhhh... I... I'm sorry... what did you say?
Lute: I'm a little surprised that I've never seen you in this park before since we both seem to come here a lot.
Sissy: I... uhhh... I've never been here before... I...
Lute: Ohh... I thought... didn't you just say you came here a lot?
Sissy: Did I? I... must have mispoke... I...
Lute: Ohh... maybe I didn't hear you right, that's always possible. I just start talking, and everything else becomes background. I forget to listen. I have to really work on that... I know.
Sissy: No... don't worry about... (pause) Ummm... Lute?
Sissy: Can I... ask you an odd question?
Lute: Sure; I've heard a lot of them before. What is it?
Sissy: Why... why aren't you... sitting down?
Lute: Oh... well... I have an odd answer for that question - which really wasn't that odd, I'm surprised that you didn't ask earlier.
Sissy: Well... I noticed, and you just don't seem very comfortable.
Lute: Well, not really that comfortable, no...
Sissy: Why don't you just, you know, stand?
Lute: Well, it's part of the physical therapy, with any luck I'll be able to sit down fully in about another month. Meanwhile, I can't let those muscles atrophy.
Sissy: Can I ask... uhh... what the physical therapy is for?
Lute: I recently have had sex reassignment surgery.
Sissy: Oh! Sorry! I mean... that's
Lute: Oh, don't worry about it... it shocks everyone I tell.
Sissy: I didn't mean.. I.. I'm really open-minded, and...
Lute: It's O.K., Sissy; really, don't worry about it.
Sissy: Why did you decide to have... that surgery?
Lute: (he stands again) Well, for a very long time; I've felt that something was very wrong with my body; I was never comfortable with my physical attributes as a man... something wasn't right, you know?
Sissy: So, you realized that you were more a woman in a man's body?
Lute: Ohhh no! (laughing a little bit) Heavens no! No, I'm definitely all man. But there was alwasy something tickling my brain; giving me these messages...
Sissy: Why did you get sex reassignment surgery, if you ... if you were happy being a man?
Lute: Well, now, I had sex reassignment surgery, not gender reassignment surgery. Sex reassignment surgery encompasses all the sexual characteristics of men and women.
Sissy: I don't understand the difference, I guess.
Lute: Well, I was in my bathroom one day, just got out of the shower, and I was... well... I was looking at my butt in the mirror... a lot of guys do it, you'd be surprised... and I realized what had been bothering me all these years.
Lute: I realized that my butt cheeks were on wrong!
Sissy: "On"? Wrong?
Lute: Yes, it was that simple!
Sissy: I've never... how could your butt cheeks be...
Lute: It wasn't anything about how they looked... I mean my left butt cheek looked like, I guess, what a left butt cheek is supposed to look like... I mean, it was a butt cheek and it was on the left... but! But! Something deep inside whispered to me there in the bathroom, and I heard it. I tried to ignore it at first, but then it started shouting.
Sissy: You needed a new left butt cheek?
Lute: Yes! And I knew exactly where to find it!
Sissy: They have a donor program, or something?
Lute: No! No! It was my right butt cheek! It was practically screaming to be put on the left side!
Sissy: Wow! Really? You...
Lute: Switched my butt cheeks!! I had sex reassignment surgery!
Sissy: Ummm... uhhh... wow? That's... that's really...
Lute: Weird... I know. But I've been so much more at peace since the surgery! I can't explain it.
Sissy: Just more comfortable?
Lute: Yes! Definitely! More comfortable with who I am now.
Sissy: Wow... so you can't sit down?
Lute: No, but each day, I crouch a little bit further to help maintain my quads, hamstring, and push blood into those precious glutes.
Sissy: Helps with the healing?
Lute: The docs say it does, and I'm not fooling around with this re-ass-signment! Get it? (laughs a lot to himself)
Sissy: (a little bit of laughter) Yes.. I, I get it.
Lute: Well, I should be going, I have a support group for people who have gone through this surgery. If I go now (looks at watch, gives it a "see-what-I-told-you" look and tone), I'll be five minutes early!
Sissy: Ohh... O.K. It was nice to... talk to you, Lute.
Lute: Thanks so much for listening! The world needs people who can listen like you, Sissy; so more people with Gluteal Dysmorphic Syndrome don't have to suffer in silence. Thank you. (He gets a little misty here) Talking about it to people who know how to listen, like you, helps me realize that I did the right thing; that I found my true butt. (awkward movement, then he moves in for a quick hug, Sissy doesn't really reciprocate, but doesn't reject the hug) Bye, maybe I'll see you here another day! You can watch my progress toward eventual touchdown!
Sissy: (stands, looks after him) Sure. Sure. Good... bye. (Lute walks off)
(Sissy shakes her head a little bit, then she starts to sit down, but stops herself after a crouching just a little, tries to hold it for a while, then she stands, turns her head around far, trying to look at her butt, tries looking at both sides, lights start fading, she reaches down and touches left butt cheek with left hand, right hand butt cheek with right hand, then reverses her hands, looks up at audience with a bemused expression, lights out)
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