When I was about 6 or 7 years old, my grandma took me for a haircut. This was decades ago. I don't know why she didn't cut my hair because she always used to do it. I guess it was part of growing up.
The local hair stylist was closed for renovations, so we had to go to the next one. There wasn't anybody inside, so we waited a bit. It was all fine until I saw LA CREATURA approaching in the distance:
It looked, and I shit you not, like today's Donald John Trump, 45th & 47th president of the United States of America, but with long hair tied on a pony tail.
That wasn't too odd for me. What shook me with a mental flashbang was its attire: Tight black leggings hugging that porridge of an ass. High heels. A sheer black blouse with a black bra underneath, and long ass fingernails.
The creature entered the premises, and with a very, very lazy falsetto asked my grandmother about the haircut I was getting. I had no idea what the fuck was going on, and then the haircut proceeded.
It didn't terrify me. I went away unmolested. The haircut was alright, I think (same bowl cut I was getting since being born). But the experience was very notable for my child brain. I didn't know that grown men could just wear women's clothes like that! Oh, what a crazy world, right?
It wasn't the worst experience I had while having a haircut as a kid, either. On another occasion, a trailer trash bitch stabbed me in the back of an ear with the fucking scissors.
Never saw that one individual again. There were rumours about a fist fight, but I didn't care enough to look it up. After that, I think I only ever saw 3 or 4 trannies in my life: 3 prostitutes far away on the streets of a big city and another one on a bus ride. Last one looked like the source image of "El Perro Rabioso" 'jak, with fake tits and dressed like a prostitute... So, 4 prostitutes.
I think I've avoided direct close encounters with trannys since then. #Blessed #TTD