The cold war 03

Stepping out of the apartment building, Ben shivered as he felt a gust of wind dance around his freshly shaved ankles. Grabbing his puffy pink coat with both hands, he tugged down on the bottom in vain, in the hope of making it stretch enough to cover his exposed belly.

“Stop pulling on my coat, you’ll rip it”, Irina announced, standing to his right, wearing a similar outfit to his.

“This jacket is too small, and aren’t your ankles cold? Why didn’t you wear a pair of socks”? Ben asked frustrated.

“It’s called fashion, socks don’t go with an outfit like this, you’ll get used to it, just don’t think about it”, she announced striding on towards the street.

“Good morning, err… ladies”, Clive the doorman announced, a huge smile appearing on his face as he recognised the pair.

“Good morning Clive”, Irina announced, as Ben ducked his head and kept on moving.

That encounter was the first of many strange looks, he received that day, but Ben was determined not to let it get to him, after all, they were just clothes and he had seen people dressed stranger than him, this was New York City, a melting pot of weird and eccentric individuals from all walks of life.

After a silent cab ride into lower Manhattan, Ben exited the yellow taxi and discovered the location of their first stop of the day. Without hesitation, Irina led the way, pushing open the door causing the attached bell to ring out loudly, announcing their presence.

As he nervously stepped inside, Ben could feel the whole room staring right at him, from the woman at the front desk to the rows of women sat having their nails done, they all seemed intrigued by the boy in the pink coat and tight leggings who had just walked in the door. Time seemed to slow down as Ben surveyed the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone but also trying not to look as frightened as he felt.

“Good morning Irina”, the woman at the front desk said in a cheerful voice, her eyes firmly fixed on Ben in his feminine outfit and trying to decide what to make of him. “I didn’t know you were coming in today, weren’t you just in a few days ago”?

“Hi Janice, yes, but I had a little accident, do you think you can fit me in”? Irina asked showing Janice her cracked nail.

“Ouch, that looks painful”, Janice said taking her eyes off of Ben for a second and looking at Irina’s outstretched hand, “of course, doll, we can sort that out for you, no problem”.

“Thank you”, Irina replied, “and one more thing, I brought my brother Ben along with me today, as he's always wanted to see what a full set of acrylics feel like, do you think you can fit him in too”?

Janice’s eyes shot back towards Ben as her mouth fell open slightly, “Your brother? He wants acrylic nail tips”? She asked to confirm that she had heard correctly.

“Yes, just do them exactly like mine”, Irina replied, like it was something completely normal, “that’s not a problem is it”?

Janice looked back at Irina and composed herself, “no… no problem at all, as long as your paying, we can do his nails anyway he wants”.

“Great”, Irina replied, looking around at Ben who had finally lowered his head, the embarrassment of the situation finally getting to him, “let’s do a pedicure too, while we’re here, you guys give the most relaxing foot massages”.

It was an awkward experience at best, as Ben sat having his nails filed and his cuticles trimmed adjacent to Irina. The woman doing his nails, kept looking at him oddly, obviously not sure what to make of him, barely uttering a word as she worked on his outstretched hands.

It was a completely opposite scene on the seat next to him, as Irina chatted away with her manicurist, who she obviously knew well, talking about some new bar that had just opened up in Greenwich Village. But the silence suited Ben just fine, as he wasn’t in the mood for chit chat, he just watched on fascinated as the skilled manicurist worked at lightning speed, transforming his shortly clipped nails, into something a lot more glamourous.

An hour later, Ben was stood back by the front desk, holding his hands in front of him, transfixed on his new claws. They didn’t seem real, as he tried to get his mind to accept that, it was in fact his feminine looking hands, sprouting ten shiny long acrylic nails, that he was looking at.

He wiggled his fingers and watched as the light bounced off the glossy surface, of what he had been informed, was called a classic square tip French manicure. 

As he moved his hands back and forth slightly, he winced, noticing how feminine his hands now looked, but having been told not to put them in his pockets, he was forced to hold them out in the open for all to admire, the new inch long extensions keeping his fingers slightly apart and making him exaggerate his hand movements in a swishy manner.

“So, what do they feel like”? The receptionist asked.

“Ben”, Irina shouted, “Ben, Janice asked you a question”.

Ben quickly looked up, unaware of what was happening around him “err… sorry… what”?

Janice laughed, “don’t worry about it, cutie, “I just asked how your new nails feel, that’s what you wanted, right? To see how they feel”?

“Err… yeah, right”, Ben stuttered.

“So what's the verdict”? Janice added wanting an answer.

 “Err... different I guess”, he said feeling his cheeks turn red.

“Well, I bet, getting nails that long for the first time, will take some getting used to, just remember to be careful with them, you don’t want to break one, just ask your sister, she knows how painful it can be”, Janice said with a smile.

“Err… yeah, I’ll be careful”, Ben replied, “looking over at Irina, who was nodding her head.

Leaving the salon, Irina hailed a cab, as Ben who had been trying to hide his new manicure unsuccessfully, gladly jumped, “where to”? the cabbie asked clicking on the meter.

“5th and 74th street”, Irina announced while fastening her seatbelt.

“You got it”, the cabbie announced, as Ben looked over at Irina confused.

“5th Avenue, have you forgotten? I have to work soon, I need to get home and change, remove these nails”, Ben whispered to avoid the Cab driver hearing who was clearly trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Irina let out a loud ha, “don't worry, you still have plenty of time before work, but I hate to break it to you, those nails are not coming off without a trip back to the nail salon, and as for your clothes, you wear what I wear from now on, remember? No exceptions”.

Ben looked shocked as he quickly looked down at his ridiculously long nails, “but… I can’t work like this, I couldn’t even open the door to the salon, how am I supposed to serve people their pretzels”?

“Not my problem”, Irina announced, “you were the one who wanted to live like me, you are the one who said my life was easy, so stop complaining and prove your point”.

Ben sighed, knowing he only had himself to blame for his current predicament, if he had only kept his mouth shut, and just called Mr Davidson at the pretzel stand and told him he was quitting, he wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of standing in Central park dressed like a complete fairy, “So, where are we going”? Ben asked miserably.

“Shopping, of course”, Irina replied cheerfully, “now that you’re living my life, you’ll soon see, that there is always time for a quick shopping trip. We can walk about and do a little window shopping on 5thAvenue and with it being right next to Central Park, I figured you could just walk to work after, perfect, right”?

Ben shook his head and turned to look out of the window, “yeah, just perfect”, he thought to himself as he saw the image of his miserable-looking face above a big pink girly coat, reflected back at him in the window.

Later in the park, it was a disastrous shift on the pretzel stand, Ben had felt humiliated standing out in the open with his portable cart as people stared and complimented him on his nails. He tried to rise above it, thanking them, but having dropped more product on the floor than he had actually sold, Mr Davidson was not going to be happy.

It was almost impossible to control his hands, now tipped with his flashy new nails, what had previously been an easy job, he could do without thinking, had become an elaborate puzzle, which required inventive solutions to perform simple tasks. For example, to open containers and pick things up he now had to twist and bend his hands in unnatural ways, and to pick up certain things he now had to use two straws like chopsticks, as the customers watched him fumble about in a comical fashion.

“Two, pretzels, please”, came a woman’s voice snapping Ben out of his thoughts.

“Err… sure”, he replied, looking up to see a mother with her young daughter.

“Mommy, that man has nails like a girl”, the young girl announced loudly.

“Now don’t be rude, Katie”, the mother quickly replied, “it’s not for us to judge how other people want to live their lives”.

The young girl looked up, “sorry, mister, your nails are really pretty”, she announced with a big toothy grin.

Ben smiled, “thank you”, he replied, wondering how much more he could take as the humiliation of the situation was becoming unbearable. But things were about to get much worse for the young feminized man as after passing the order to the woman and receiving a 10 dollar bill, he delved into his money pouch to find her some change and snagged one of his nails on the side of the bag.

“Owwww”, he screamed, “son of a bitch”.

“Oh my”, announced the mother, “you need to watch your language, young man, you keep the change, come on Katie we’re leaving”.

The woman quickly ushered her young daughter away dragging her by the arm as Ben quickly pulled his hands up to inspect his cursed nails, his right index finger was throbbing with pain and felt as though he had ripped his nail clean off. 

Examining it further he found a small crack running across the centre, “shit, I broke one”, he thought to himself, “I can’t believe it hurts, this much, I guess I should have shown Irina a little more sympathy yesterday, perhaps this month is going to be a lot tougher than I thought after all”.

(See image 2.2)