I am all of 90 lbs and barely 5 feet in height. “Petite” would be a good description. My jet black hair comes down midway to my back, which I always tie in a neat pony. Oftentimes in the office, new people who don’t know me would ask, “What’s a high school girl doing here?” So, imagine my confusion when this straight guy I just met asked me, “Lalaki ka ba?” (translated, that means: “Are you a guy?”)

The whole thing started when I bought an old scooter - a modified 90cc Honda Dio 2 (I just took the picture off the net, but mine is also blue). I didn’t now a thing about motors, but I was eager to learn and pimp it up myself. Luckily, I found an awesome motorcycle forum and met a guy who was kind enough to help me with an initial gas tank problem (it had a leak, we replaced it). He came back a few times to our house for other repairs.

I guess he got a clue that the girl living with me is my partner. The other day he worked up the courage to ask if we’re together (my girl and I). Of course, I’m proud, so I said, yes, we are. Then he proceeded to ask, “So who’s the guy? (between you two) Because the other day, I thought, those two seem like a couple, but they both look like girls. How could that be?”

*sigh*

Straight people and their preconceived notions. I felt like I just went back in time to the Jurassic period. Maybe I should look for dinosaurs in my backyard.

Since I still think of him as a swell guy for helping me, I proceeded to explain everything patiently. I’m NOT a guy, and neither is my partner. And, yes! Holy cow, it is possible! He seemed amazed at the thought. To further open his eyes, I told him that some of my lesbian friends are even more “girlier” that me - lipstick and all of that. He thought I was pulling his leg, but after some brain processing I think it sunk in.

Then he said, “That’s OK. At least you don’t try to look like a boy. When I see girls like that, I sure feel like running over them.” Tsk tsk tsk. I don’t know where that came from. Insecurity, perhaps? Did a butch steal his girlfriend in high school? Hmmm…

“Well, everybody’s got their own thing. If that’s what they’re comfortable with it, I let them be. You have your own quirks.”

“Yeah,” he paused, “maybe you’re right.” Then he gave other tips on how to take care of the scooter and rode away.

I guess some people just need to have their eyes pried open, sometimes with a crowbar. Ah, he’s cool. After all, he did all the repairs on my scooter for free (but I insisted on giving him “gas money”). He showed me pictures of his 6-month old baby girl named Dylan. I think he was eager to come home and see her.