I'm sitting with my friend Ken in the Grand Central lower-level food court enjoying some Chirping Chicken. I think I could eat Chirping Chicken every day. I look over Ken's shoulder and notice a really hot guy standing in line at Eat-A-Pita. I nudge Ken to turn around.
"Oof! Check out that guy."
Ken hardly blinks. "Girl."
"No, I mean the guy with the shaved head. "
"What are you not understanding? That is a girl. A female. One of those things we don't fuck."
"No, it isn't!"
"Joe, I saw her walk by. She has those titty thingies. Girl."
Ten seconds later, that handsome, broad-shouldered, tattooed guy with the shaved head turned around and almost put my eyes out with a pair of perfect titties. Ken was right. Girl. This has been happening to me more and more since I got to New York City. I don't know if the stone butch dykes are just especially hot here or if it's just a series of coincidences, but more than a few times in the last year my head has been turned by a sexy bulldagger. I don't mind it. It's fascinating.