Madam-hood?

It's getting sad these days. Well not sad as in sad but sad as in another type of sad. I hit the shops and get sad. I go to fill my car with fuel, and it gets sad. I go to a pharmacy I've never been to, and it gets sad. I try a pair of brand new shoes with a take-me tag on and I get sad. Then I go to work and get happy. One big difference. At school I am Miss-ed. Otherwise I am Madam-ed. Can you believe it, me a Madam? People are actually having the audacity to call me Madam? I'm no madam. I'm not that old surely? How arrogant and downright rude. Who the fuck do they think they are, who the fuck have them the permission to Madam me? No thank you. Just a Miss will do very nicely. After all I do not yet know the big world of Mrs-hood. So I should rightly be called a Miss. Although when I translate that to my native Maltese I cannot help but laugh. Sinjorina. Oh God that's so funny. I fit into none of the two categories of sinjorina, it evokes the image of a sweet 16 year old girl.... or a young man who walks, talks, eats, flicks his hair effeminately. A very messed up ex-colleague of mine once actually said I looked very gay, (as in male gay), because I behaved like a woman. Ermmm, I think that's quite obvious. So I am a gay man in the body of a woman. That sounds ever more desperate. I don't know who is the crankier of us two. But I had one good laugh, plenty of laughs with this colleague. Strangely enough. Perhaps it's the more eccentric people which make it easier to get on with life. People who remember me, the me of three years ago would right me down as the best world's eccentric. I still have my goth clothing, my goth make up. Because although it's hard to believe I was once a goth, and it felt good. Because nobody dared call me Madam back then.