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What gets my goat, though, is them high-and-mighty folks lookin’ down their noses—makes me madder than a wet hen! These gals got stories, y’all. Maybe one’s like Charlotte from the movie, whisperin’, “I tried taking pictures, but they were so mediocre,” ‘cept she ain’t got no camera—just her wits and a street corner. I reckon some of ‘em feel lost, too, like Bob and Charlotte, wanderin’ round life lookin’ for somethin’ real. “The more you know who you are,” Bob says, and shoot, ain’t that the truth? But who’s got time for that when you’re dodgin’ cops and creepy johns?

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Then I decide to stroll down the Laan van de Kruidnagel. It’s a pretty street, lined with trees and cute houses. But guess what? I see this old dude walking his dog. The dog? Total psycho. It bolts right at me, and I’m like, “Whoa, chill, buddy!” I swear, I almost dropped my croissant.

I’m surviving transphobia when I’d rather just play footy | Simona Castricum