For my 20,000th post I thought I would relate a tale relating to this the topic of this thread. I may have mentioned this before and if so, I apologise for the early onset of Oldtimers disease.
In the eighties, I bought a semi in Manchester which wasn't overlooked. It just had farm fields across the road. After a few weeks I got talking to my next door neighbours who consisted of a husband and wife in their forties with two teenage children. My neighbour was called Colin and was a white collar worker at Massey Ferguson in Trafford Park. I also worked for a big firm in Trafford Park so we had a wee bit in common although I had no kids at that time. It transpired that Colin leased all the farmland opposite from Manchester Ship canal authority and he had stables which he rented out for additional income. You couldn't have wished for nicer neighbours and although we were not all that close we would always have a chat and pass the time of day and occasionally help one another out with one thing or another. He had a tractor and a trailer and also a portable lawn mower which he used to mow the lawns at the local schools in the area. After my son was born and was growing up, Colin would take him for a ride on his tractor as he was pottering about his farm. My only criticism of Colin was that he was a somewhat of a frugal disposition. The type of person who can peel an orange in their pocket. He would of made a great farmer.
Anyway, one night I am sat in the kitchen having my tea and Colin knocks on the door. My wife answered the door and then disappeared next door. Nothing unusual in that, she would often have a chat with Colin's wife. But.... on this occasion she was gone for nearly two hours. When she returned she dropped the bombshell that Colin had been living a double life and ever since he was a child he had wished he was a woman. He had been receiving counselling and now that both his kids had left home and married, he was going to live for twelve months as a woman before having breast augmentation and his wedding tackle removed! You could have knocked me down with a salami sausage on hearing the news. He told my wife that from now on he was going to be known as Anna and we should all call him Anna from now on. . Now this peed me off somewhat. Why couldn't he just have called himself Colleen? That way, I could still refer to him as Col, which was what I called him.
My son was about eight at the time and ANNA suggested that we just tell him that Colin had left home and his sister Anna had moved in next door!
A couple of weeks later I'm coming up my driveway with my lad in tow and Anna is in the front garden in a dress and a pair of fetching court shoes. My lad spots him and says, ' Look Dad, Colin is wearing a dress!'
I say, ' That's not Colin! It's his sister Anna!'
He replies, ' No it's not, it's Colin. And he's wearing a wig!. ( Out of the mouths of babes! )
Well there were some fun and games after that, I can tell you. I'm quite a tolerant individual but I simply couldn't come to terms with Colin and his transformation. I just used to say hello and then disappear indoors whenever our paths crossed. I wasn't being rude or impolite but I just felt uncomfortable subconsciously whenever I saw him.
He was made redundant from Massey Ferguson and is now a full blown woman. He had a face lift and boob job in Poland and he had his knackers and plums removed in Thailand. The treatment was part funded by the NHS but he paid for the bulk of it. He met his new partner in Thailand. A bloke from Luton who ran a garage and when his wife died of cancer he decided he wanted to be a woman as well. They now both live together in a council bungalow and I often see them out and about shopping. They look for all the world like an older version of Hinge and Bracket.
Last edited by Reebok Trotter on Thu Feb 25 2016, 18:47; edited 1 time in total