Lowered Expectations
By: Kira Wertz
Tags: LGBTQ, Travel, Life Lessons, Family, Transgender

Random Encounters

It needs to be stated that throughout my travels — and especially while I was wearing my Trans identifying T-shirt — absolutely NO ONE misgendered or confronted me. I utilized restrooms in all the airports I visited (Will Rogers, Dallas International, Pittsburgh International, and Denver International) completely without incident. Often times, the restrooms were packed with lines forming inside to access the next available stall. In one instance at the Denver airport, a woman even chatted me up about my tattoo while waiting for a stall.

As I flew from Dallas to Pittsburgh I was seated next to a very nice woman who chatted with me pretty much the entire flight. She took no issue with my gender identity, and we even discussed it over the course of the flight. When we landed we gave one another a hug and continued on with our travels.

You can’t miss this monster on your way to get your luggage at Pittsburgh International Airport.

The day following my father’s funeral I had plans to meet an old friend who I hadn’t seen in 15 years; I would also get to meet her husband for the first time as well. We met up for dinner at the Olive Garden on Peach Street in Erie. The place was crowded, but there was immediate seating available in the bar area; we opted for that instead of waiting. During the course of dinner, a waitress who wasn’t even serving us came by several times. Initially the chatter was about the pain of my tattoo, when she returned the second time it was to declare that I was her new BFF; the third time she came back she continued to dote on my tattoo and referred to me as a “Warrior Princess.” Before leaving she offered me a hug; I gladly accepted.

After dinner, my friends and I paid a visit to Presque Isle to watch the sunset.

On the Sunday that I was scheduled to fly home, I made my way to the breakfast area at my hotel. My usual morning routine would consist of catching up on social media and reading news while I eat breakfast. So I’m there doing just that; it’s early, the place isn’t too busy, and there are plenty of open tables. As I am minding my own business, a man who was probably in his mid-late 50’s came to my table and asked to sit with me. I agreed; if for no reason other than pure curiosity. I figured the conversation would move in one of two directions; either my tattoo or the context of the t-shirt. I couldn’t help but want to know where this was headed.

The man introduced himself as Joey. He said he likes to hear about people’s journeys, and that as he looked around the room he figured I was the most interesting person there. Of course he said in the same breath that no one asks about his journey, and I proceeded to do just that. He was 30+ years in recovery from alcohol and drugs, and he worked with youth who were struggling with addiction. I don’t know what had brought him to Erie, but I know he lived in Pittsburgh, and was a bricklayer by profession. He shared a tragic and inspiring story about his son who was able to make significant strides after suffering a traumatic brain injury. He also told me how happy he was to be a grandfather even though his daughter had gotten pregnant under less than ideal circumstances. I saw this man embrace the tragedy and triumphs of his life and really see nothing but the good in the entirety of the experience.

Joey did his share while exalting Jesus at the same time, but I think we were on the same page. I told him the only parts of the Bible I could ever relate to were the bits printed in red (‘Living Bibles’ are printed with Jesus’ words in red); he agreed. He said he couldn’t quote a single verse from the Bible, but sincerely believed in Christ’s words.

As it was, he’d sought me to hear my story, and so I indulged him. I could tell he was oblivious to the difficulties of being Trans. I spoke to him about hormone replacement, Trans athletes, the abhorrent suicide statistics, and how some people fall on addictions to cope with their gender identity. The latter of which was something we could both definitely relate to (addictions that is). The conversation was good, I think we both took something away from it. We wished each other well, and went on about our lives.

When I had gotten to my gate on Sunday my plane was still about 45 minutes from take-off and boarding hadn’t begun. I went to a bar next to the gate and ordered a “Stacy’s Mom IPA”. Just seconds after placing that order a man comes up the the bar; has some quick chatter about my tattoo, then he quickly places an order for a double shot of whiskey and a beer. In the same breath, he told the bartender that my beer was on him. He said his name is Tom, but all this friends called him Tommy. I told him my name, and we exchange “nice-to meet yas”. Of course I said “nice to meet you Tommy” and he responded, “you called me Tommy, that means we’re friends!”

Tommy and I bantered for a bit, more tattoo talk, and I indulged him in taking a photo (or 3). As it turns out, he’s on the same flight to Denver as me. He’s 6'5" tall, and is bucking for an exit row because he needs the leg room. I am a lower number in our boarding group, and he asks me to grab the exit row for him. Ironically that wasn’t really necessary, since he was right behind me going on the plane. But we both made our way to the exit row, and enjoyed the extra 4 inches of leg room — WOOT! We didn’t talk much on the plane but when we landed, Tommy wished me well and we went our separate ways.

Once I’d gotten to Denver, I had several hours to kill. By now my breakfast had worn off and I was starting to get a bit hangry. I take a stroll up and down the concourse looking at my options for eats. After about 20 minutes I go into a restaurant and bar called The Great Divide. The place is packed, and the only place for me is on the far side of the bar right next to the kitchen. It’s a weird seating because it’s a half table that’s mounted on the bar. The bartender is a fella named Christopher who is probably in his 30’s. I order a “Titan IPA” and a burger, then jump back to all the social media and news that my conversation with Joey had kept me from this morning. Eventually I have a second Titan.

In between helping other customers, Christopher engages me in small talk. I overhear that they’re about out of CO2 and that no one has bothered to call AirGas for a delivery. This will surely make their customers a bit irritable. I quip about how it must be a pain in the ass to make a delivery at an airport. I tell Christopher that I occasionally have to make a delivery to an Air Force base, and that has taught me that security can be a real time-suck.

Eventually Christopher asked me where I’m going. I explain I’m on a return flight from my father’s funeral. He offers his condolences, and says his own dad passed a couple years prior. As I finish my meal, and ask for the check he asks if he can give me a beer. I opt to cut myself off, but he says he’s going to do something. When he hands me my check I can see he’s applied a 25% ‘airport employee discount.’ I am taken back by his generosity, but I pretty much gave it back — with more — in the form of a tip. I sign my ticket and leave. I hadn’t been out of the restaurant for more than a minute when Christopher caught up with me. He asked if he could offer me a hug. I happily accepted. Never in my life have I hugged a total stranger with such enthusiasm. I hope he knows what that small kindness meant to me, and it was the icing on the cake when it comes to proving that humanity can still be pretty friggin awesome!