Sex in the Title (18 page)

“I know. I know. The firm’s killing me.”

“That makes two of us, Narc. I don’t know how much longer I can take it. In fact, I’ve decided to apply for a job with the United Nations Development Program.”

“Hey, that’s dope, bro!” Narc said with a proud smile. “I could see you likin’ that kind of work. And it’s a good cause.”

“Indeed…But what about you, mate? What’s your exit strategy?”

“I don’t have one. My parents would freak if I left a six figure salary at a prestigious firm.”

“But you went to law school for them too…I know they’re very important to you, but how much of your life are you going to live for them? Are you still helping them out with their laundry business?” Trevor asked.

“About once a week tops. I feel like they never have enough help.”

“But you’re bloody miserable and you barely have time for yourself. Don’t they realize that you’re working full time now?”

“They don’t expect me to help. But I want to. All of their kids are out of the house now and they’re getting too old to run that business on their own. Especially with their broken English. Someone has to help them with all of the bills, legal documents, and business issues that go into running that place. What am I supposed to do? I’m their only son. I’m keeping this shitty job because I’m basically their retirement plan…But let’s change the topic…This is just gonna depress the fuck out of me and – ” He was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of Evan and Charlene.

“Hey guys!” Charlene said ebulliently. “Come on, Trevor!” She playfully pulled Trevor away and into the crowd that was grooving to the hip-hop beats playing in the lounge. Trevor charmingly and helplessly shrugged his shoulders as if to apologize, but Narc and Evan just smiled understandingly and gave him the thumbs up.

Narc was actually relieved to have a private moment with Evan, as Trevor and Charlene moved out of earshot.

“Tower’s girl is really buggin’ me out,” he began.

“I think she’s a man,” Evan replied, matter-of-factly.

“Word. I’ve been thinking that myself. We gotta save Tower.”

“But how are you gonna break it to him? I mean, he looks like he’s really into her. Or him. And we’ve gotta be one hundred percent sure…I mean, she does have a nice body.”

“Those tits actually look a bit fake,” Narc opined.

“Plenty of women get fake boobs.”

“And her shoulders seem kinda broad,” Narc persisted.

“That’s just because she’s so tall…Did you see an Adam’s apple?”

“I’m not sure,” Narc replied, suddenly unsure of himself for a moment.

“Well we should see if there’s an Adam’s apple, because – if there is – that would answer the question.”

“Right.”

“But if there’s no Adam’s apple, we’d still need to dig further.”

“Why’s that?” asked Narc.

“I read somewhere that you can get your trachea shaved off as part of a transgender operation.”

“What the fuck were you doing researching transgender operations?”

“It was for a screenplay idea I had.”

“Oh…So if there’s no Adam’s apple, how can we tell if it’s a guy?” Narc asked.

“I think it’s a guy. Look at the height. How many women have you seen who are that tall? And look at the mannerisms.”

“Yeah. They’re way too forward for a woman…I’ll bet there’s an Adam’s apple,” Narc said.

“Well, let’s check first,” Evan said. “We should really get whatever evidence we can, because if we say something to Trevor and we’re wrong, it’ll be really bad,” Evan said.

“Not as bad as if we’re right and we don’t say anything to him,” Narc replied.

“True.”

When Trevor and his new girlfriend finally returned from dancing, Narc followed the plan he had hatched with Evan. Narc engaged Charlene in a conversation about the ceiling of the club, so that she would look upwards and he could get a closer look at her throat area. Meanwhile, Evan discreetly asked Trevor if the male trio could enjoy some quality time alone, just for old time’s sake.

Narc pushed the limits of his artistic observation skills, as he kept trying to generate new esthetic comments that would prompt Charlene to look up at the ceiling. After remarking on the club’s tall ceilings, he asked her to estimate their height; then he asked her about the precise color and texture of the paint, about the particular style of the roof beams, and about the decorative elements near the upper parts of the walls. But he found it difficult to discern whether Charlene’s slightly raised throat area constituted an Adam’s apple. He glanced at the throats of various men and women nearby, but they were each too far away and moving too much for Narc to make any useful comparisons. The need to remain subtle and avoid arousing any suspicion in Charlene was paramount to his investigative efforts, and so – when he had thoroughly exhausted all possible observations about the rather unremarkable ceiling above them – Narc gave up.

About twenty minutes later, Trevor began negotiating an early end to his night with Charlene. As she protested vociferously, Narc whispered his inconclusive findings to Evan, but insisted that he still had serious enough doubts about Charlene’s true gender that they had a duty to confront their friend with the issue. After some deliberation, Evan agreed.

Charlene finally and reluctantly agreed to leave the boys alone for the rest of the night. Trevor apologetically put her into a cab, and the three friends jumped into a separate cab. Narc instructed the driver to take them to Chinatown, where he knew of several small Chinese restaurants that effectively offered perfect privacy as long as the three friends spoke in English.

Narc picked out a small, circular table in the restaurant and then translated everyone’s orders into Cantonese for the waiter, who seemed to be moving in fast forward, like everything else in the place. Trevor and Evan were impressed with Narc’s Chinese language skills. Narc’s thoroughly American style and his fluency in both academic English and ghetto talk made his friends forget that he could still revert to an authentic Chinese mode. After the waiter left, Narc teased them for a few minutes about having the expression of bewildered tourists on their faces.

A few minutes later, an awkward silence settled in as Evan and Narc looked at each other, each hoping that the other would break the bad news. Trevor realized that something was amiss.

“What? What is it?” he asked, slightly amused by his friends’ strange silence.

“There’s really no good way to say this,” Narc began, a little self-consciously.

“Say what?”

“We think,” he continued, and then paused awkwardly. “We think that Charlene is a man.”

“Or that she used to be a man,” Evan quickly clarified.

Trevor did a double take, and looked at the two friends across from him, trying to perceive whether this was some kind of practical joke. But they appeared unquestionably serious – even concerned.

“Are you bloody barmy?!” he exclaimed.

“What’s that?” Evan asked Narc, who – after spending considerably more time with Trevor – was much more familiar with British slang.

“It means crazy…Trevor, we’re bein’ totally serious. We’ve both been trippin’ on your girl, or your guy, or whatever.”

“This is pure bollocks. Some kind of joke, right?” Trevor replied, in amused disbelief. For someone incapable of openly and unequivocally admitting that he had slept with a woman, nothing could be more inconceivable or disturbing than the possibility that he was dating a man, or a former man.

“I know it’s not easy to think about,” Evan began. “And we really didn’t want to say anything unless we were absolutely sure that you need to look into the matter.”

“And unfortunately, we’re both absolutely sure,” Narc added. “So we felt that it was our duty to tell you. As your friends.”

But Trevor would have none of the idea, no matter how earnestly and seriously his friends repeated their concerns. After Narc tried wrestling in vein with Trevor’s blindly closed-minded denials for another ten minutes, Evan tried a more intellectual approach.

“Trevor, let’s just say that Narc and I have this working hypothesis. And it’s completely contrary to your working hypothesis. And until we assess all of the evidence, we really can’t say who’s right and who’s wrong.”

“But that’s precisely my point,” Trevor retorted. “I have so much more evidence than the two of you have.”

“But did you score?” Narc asked pointedly, as if he were deposing Trevor.

“No comment.”

“Will you at least confirm that you’ve closely inspected her anatomy?” Narc persisted.

“I am definitely more familiar with what she looks like than the two of you are.”

“The trouble is that after transgender operations, it can be very difficult for the untrained eye to notice the traces of the surgery,” Evan added.

“What authority are you on this subject?” Trevor asked, appalled at the suggestion of a sex operation.

“Evan’s our de facto resident expert on transgender operations. He wrote a screenplay on the topic.”

“Actually, I just researched it. I never wrote the script. The topic just freaked me out too much.”

“Listen mates, I really don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Trevor said, somewhat impatiently.

“We don’t really want to talk about it either,” Narc persisted. “But we just thought that – as your friends – we should say something. It’s obviously a ball-breaker of a subject. And it’s not even something you can really discuss with Charlene.”

“Yeah, even if she wouldn’t take offense to the question,” Evan added, “you can’t be sure that she’d give you a straight answer.”

“You have to explore the issue subtly,” Narc added.

“How do you explore that issue subtly?” Trevor asked flippantly, as if to humor their ludicrous assumption.

“See how she reacts to certain things,” Evan suggested. “Like tell her ‘I saw the most disgusting show about transsexuals last night on TV. I can’t think of anything more nauseating and repulsive than a transsexual.’”

“How would that tell me anything?”

“Because you’ll see how she reacts,” Evan explained. “I mean, if she really cares about you and having a relationship with you, it wouldn’t be in her interest to hide such a basic part of who she is from you.”

“Or maybe it would,” Trevor rejoined. “Maybe she’s so in love with me and so determined to stay with me that your strategy would only cause her to be all the more careful about hiding certain facts from me.”

“You’ve got a point,” Evan conceded. “But what about seeing how quickly she’d be willing to have anal sex?” Evan paused for a moment. The Chinese waiter had arrived with their food. The waiter’s rushed movements and indifferent expression confirmed that they had perfect privacy, so Evan continued: “Most real women don’t like receiving anal sex, whereas most gay men do.”

Trevor, who had also noticed how clueless the waiter was about their conversation, launched into his rebuttal: “I would never want to have anal sex with any woman, so that’s a preposterous question.”

The waiter finished transferring the last dishes to their table and left in a flash.

“He just means asking her hypothetically, to see how she reacts,” Narc chimed in. “But you could still get false positives from the few women who like it, and false negatives from the few gay guys who don’t. So it’s not really a good test.”

“I’ve got it!” Evan said. “Go into her bathroom some time and see if she has any tampons or pads anywhere. And if you can’t find them in her apartment or her purse or anywhere else, see how she reacts when you ask her whether she has menstrual cramps and how she deals with them.”

“Word. That’s it! Evan got it,” Narc said, excited about the strategy.

“And I have another one,” Evan said. “At some other time, so she doesn’t get suspicious, ask her whether she wants kids. Most women want kids at some point. Tell her that you can’t get serious about any woman who isn’t open to bearing your children some day, and see how she reacts.”

“I like that one too!” Narc said, high-fiving Evan, who was clearly pleased with his own cleverness.

“You blokes have a very fertile imagination. Or you’ve been watching way too much of that Jerry Springer bollocks. All of this talk is completely barmy.”

But no matter how much Trevor tried to dismiss their suspicions as wild and baseless speculation, a haunting doubt lingered in his mind during the weeks that followed, until he finally gave in and began investigating the matter.

Each time Trevor collected some new piece of data, the results either failed to reassure him or they actually troubled him a bit. Charlene didn’t seem to keep any tampons or pads in her bathroom or purse and claimed not to suffer from menstrual cramps. She didn’t want kids because it would interfere with her artistic ambitions too much, and she was happy to have anal sex any time Trevor felt the urge. Her throat seemed slightly raised, but not enough to qualify as a “smoking gun Adam’s apple” – particularly since Trevor doubted his expertise on such matters (although he did develop a minor fixation with throat shapes).

By the second week following his Chinatown dinner with Narc and Evan, Trevor needed a final and accurate answer to the question. He was too squeamish about the subject and too Puritan to confront her about the issue directly. He was also unsure whether she would tell the truth, and he was afraid of saying something inappropriate, if her answer didn’t fully eliminate his festering suspicion. So he decided that the most natural way to find out the truth was simply to do that which she had been wanting to do since the day they met: get fully naked and have sex.

Trevor purposely planned to see Charlene on a weeknight when he would be working late, so that she would try to convince him to spend the night. Because he had never agreed to her prior attempts to have him stay over, he feigned reluctance initially, so that she wouldn’t suspect his true purpose. After this initial resistance, Trevor agreed to go over to Charlene’s place at around 11 p.m. and spend the night. She excitedly began preparing her place for Trevor’s visit. Charlene meticulously cleaned her apartment, made a bubble bath, put out wine glasses and candles, and arranged her condoms and sex toys in discreet but easily accessible hiding places.