Several years ago, I was standing with a woman at the bus stop and, naturally, we started chatting. As it transpired, we were alike in many ways. She was a woman and so was I (back then). She also had hair on her shoulders. Mine was pretty long back when I was a gynomorph and, even though the tips of my tresses now only tickle the place where my bra strap used to be, I felt a certain amount of shy sympathy for her at the time.
I could never stand with women at bus stops now for the simple reason that I had my legs detached and stored in two long, narrow vats of clear vinegar. They’re standing to the left and right of my fireplace at the moment and I have to tell you that they look rather fetching. I’m looking at them right now. They tell me, all the time in fact, that they don’t want to belong and for this reason, I’m confident that I haven’t hurt their feelings.
You have to be careful with legs; they can become alienated very quickly, as I’ve found with my new robot legs recently. Imagine this: you’re walking down the high street of your town/city/village/station doing a spot of window-shopping and your legs suddenly (very suddenly) take it into their mind to start can-canning. Here’s an illustrative picture, just in case you don’t have a good imagination:
Obviously, these are watering cans, but the principle still applies. It just isn’t what you want your robotic legs to be doing outside Marks & Spencer.
One of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever seen is a lumberjack falling off her bicycle. I mean, picture it in your mind: a tightrope between two tall buildings on which lie a bicycle on its side, one wheel still spinning, and a lady in a lumberjack shirt with an axe thrust through her belt a little further down the rope. I just couldn’t stop laughing, especially as the only thing that seemed to concern her was the fact that she’d also dropped her takeaway pizza and it was scattered up and down the rope like so many tiny pieces of damp clothing hanging out to dry. I thought to myself lady, you’re not going to be able to eat it now, so no need to be sad. She seemed to cheer up immediately after this mental missive, which went some way to vindicating my suspicions about the power of positive thoughts.
Sorry, got to go now – the second half’s starting. (Oops, that part is actually true.)