Last night I went to the June Transdoori and had one of those minor, odd experiences that you have when you're a very part-time tranny.
We're all sat down to eat, and cards went around the table. Not playing-cards - this was a curry night, not a bridge evening - but 'sign your name' type cards. One was a Thank You card for a lady who used to run a restaurant and had been particularly supportive to the local T-community, the other for someone who was in hospital for an op. You know the routine - sign your name - 'Best wishes from ...' - and pass it on.
Anyway when the first card got to me I went to sign my name and realised that, well, I'd never done it before. Oh yes, I've signed cards plenty of time - as a bloke. But this was the first time that I had signed my name as Rachel. You see, even when dressed I use my bloke credit card, and that not often. And, anyway, with chip and pin who signs their name for that any more? Sure I've filled my name out in the 'visitors' book at clubs, but even that's not the same*.
No, this was the first time that I could informally scribble 'Rachel' on something. And it was very odd. After nigh on 40 years writing my bloke name it's developed into an unreadable squiggle which, whilst distinctive, is barely recogniseable as a name. Last night I ended up printing 'Rachel' very neatly. Somehow it looked wrong, like it didn't seem to be a sentiment from me.
Perhaps in 40 years time Rachel will have her own signature as well ...
*Although I have appended my real surname to Rachel in at least one case, giving a bit of a lie to my 'just plain' soubriquet.