We got to the place where you pick up your street clothes. There were a half dozen of us now besides the black chick. We all got our clothes and she split at the command of a detention officer to a different room. But was back in a flash, changed out into a tank top , a hoody, and some leggings. Garish yellow and green (latex) paint on finger and huge thick toenails flashing, she pranced around the changing room watching the men change. Then slipped on to the bench next to me, I was already mostly dressed.
She looked me up and down, appraising me for something. Wasn't sure what. Seriously, I'm kinda old looking, overweight (290 + this week), out of shape and I was wearing slightly soiled wrinkled clothes that I had just taken out of a bag.
In a husky voice she said, "Your hair look good like that," with a wink.
"Oh really," I said. "Well thanks." Alarm bells had already been ringing in my head for some time.
Did I mention I had not bathed in a few days? No? Well... My hair hadn't been brushed and it was lank, dank and quite oily. I could smell myself. If I had had to do another overnight in that foul place, I would have taken a shower THAT evening. I was saved by the bell as it were.
They other guys in the area had already started climbing up the walls and avoiding eye contact or conversation with her. They had figured out what I already knew and they weren't taking it very well. Our guards would not have let a woman watch men change clothes. They are downright ugly about keeping the sexes apart. I had figured it out before she got her clothes and flounced out to change. This was a man in transition. He didn't have Caitlyn Jenner's advantage of money and connections. So his transition was not going as smoothly, I'm sure. One guy claimed to be an Ex-Navy Seal (I had my doubts, these guys don't generally tend to brag about their service in my experience) had already threatened to beat the shit out of her if she didn't stay away from him.
We were moved into the last holding cell before release. (I am far too familiar with the way things work in that place. And all due to this one case.) Finally!
She primped and preened in the reflective glass on the doors, tried various vogue-like poses (didn't really work for her, but you know, look where we were), sashayed down the length and back of the cell. And then back to the glass. For about two and a half hours. Stargaze and primp. Sashay. Stargaze and primp. Sashay. Jeebus. Talk about nervous energy.
The whole time the seal muttered and boiled next to me. I was the only other white guy out of about 20 people so I guess he thought we had something in common. Frankly I thought the dude was a loud, blustery asshole. He said he lived out in Old Town Katy. Yeah I could see that. Asshat.
Most other folks were at least civil to the girl as was I. Kept trying to flirt with me and a couple of the Mexicans and one Philipino. Gave her my last Peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She sat down next to me to make and eat it. I may never be able to eat grape jelly or smooth peanut butter again. Just because that's what they serve you in certain parts of the jail. Not because of her... *EVER* The Seal was apoplectic. Thought he was gonna burst a blood vessel or something. Jumped up off the bench and just started pacing back and forth, cussing under his breath. She licked the goop off her fingers, and his eyes bulged.
We got into the final line for release (and this still took about another hour). She was ahead of me in line and was released out the gate and door. Fortunately for her the Seal was behind me. Still muttering about Tranny Trash.
**She sashayed out of my life without a backward glance...**
And honestly? ...I was grateful.