Jewish butches

It was Jewish New Year the other week, so I did the right thing and went to synagogue.  I ended up going with some Jewish dykes I know.  We made a day of it, as much as you can. 

Despite not being particularly connected to the community, I still knew a few people.  Most don’t recognise me.  Or perhaps I don’t recognise them. An awkward nod seems enough, anyway.  I dressed in work clothes – nice pants, nice shirt, pretty straight forward.  I got introduced to a few people by my friends, one being 80. We had a nice chat about the service, the rabbi and the weather. No confusion on her face, no drama, just an opportunity to have a nice chat. The reason there was no confusion, as it turns out, is because she thought I was a lovely young man. 

At least I have manners, no matter the gender.