The Secret Handshake

The Primrose, December 2008

I’ll be the first to admit it, I’m not very observant of people details. Sure, if I walk by someone with 3 heads, my curiosity will probably be alerted. Wearing a gorilla suit in July? My keen sense of observation will pick it up in a flash. But the more subtle things? Mismatched socks? Different colored eyes? (I actually have those.) Prominent adam’s apple? No, no and no. In this way, I suppose I am the everyperson that many of us hope to encounter in our times out and about. All those people who go about their business and don’t notice us as we strive to be happy in our skins, even if those skins aren’t quite as we feel they should be.
As a consequence of my rather myopic view of the people around me, I don’t often run into the situation where I spot a sister t-girl in the wild. Of course it’s not too hard to spot us at a place like Hunter’s where we’re generally the only ones in skirts (including the GG’s), but at the local grocery store, library or coffee shop, I’ve probably walked by hundreds of sisters without knowing it. Rejoice ladies, the majority of people out there are probably just like me in this way. Your secret is safe with us, because we are clueless.
On the other hand, there are those of you who are very observant. You have a keen eye for detail, and a killer fashion sense. It takes you only moments to scan the room when you enter. Immediately you pick up the little things that tell you, “Ah, she is one of us!” You elegantly sway across the room, smiling and brightening the day of all that you pass. When you reach the sister t-girl you stop and offer your hand in a ladylike way. “Hi,” you say in a well-practiced, feminine voice. “I’m . . . (insert your name here).”
If it is me that you have approached, I’ll figure I’m the luckiest guy in the room because this beautiful lady just came on to me. Wait a minute, that’s wrong, tonight I’m a lady myself. I attempt to do a quick change back to feminine mental mode. “Hi, I’m Greer. Nice to meet you.” I might have gotten the first couple of words out in my up-register femme voice, but by the end I’m back down in male voice range. From that point, I’m busy trying to make a good impression, because I’m still clueless.
What I needed was a secret handshake! The unobtrusive sign that says, “hey, I’m trans, how about you?” This matter of recognition of other members of the community has come up several times recently in message forums. For those who aren’t as observation challenged as I am, there is a real concern about how to approach a sister or brother that you spot out and about. There are several things that must be considered. First, if you let them know that you spotted them, will they be crushed to know they were clocked? Second, how do you let them know that you know without letting anyone else know what you know? You know? Fourth (just seeing if you were paying attention), might you out yourself if you approach this person?
So how should we handle this situation? Honestly, the answer in most cases is simple human contact and courtesy. You politely approach and introduce yourself when circumstances permit. You converse politely for 5 minutes (keep an eye on your watch), then you dive into questions about tucking, hair removal methods and preferred fetish attire. OK, I’m just kidding about the last part (well maybe not the fetish attire part, that’s always a good ice breaker).
The point is you don’t have to base your approach to someone on the basis of mutual transness (did I just make that up?). It should just be a person-to-person contact. You see someone interesting, and you decide to try to get to know them. Sounds great. Of course that never worked for me at dances, bars or even church socials (that was before I became a practicing heathen, but that’s another story). I’m much more comfortable introducing myself as Greer than I have ever been as what’s-his-name, but it still feels like an unnatural act. And that brings me back to the secret handshake.
I’m not really suggesting that we have a secret handshake. If you get to the point of using a handshake, secret or otherwise, you’ve already cleared the main hurdle by making contact. No, what we need is a secret recognition signal. Something that can be flashed across a room when you catch the eye of a brother or sister. Something that will be meaningless to those who aren’t part of the community, but carry full meaning to the rest of us. Something that says, “I’m trans, I’m fabulous, and so are you! Aren’t you? If you’re not, please disregard this signal.”
So what kind of signal could we use? We could be very subtle, like tugging on an earlobe. Unfortunately, that might cause half the married couples in the room to go for their coats. Oh, that isn’t your signal for “I’m bored, take me home now”? Oops, forget I ever brought it up. On the other hand, something like jumping up and down while holding a breast in each hand is probably a bit too obvious, especially if the target of your attempted communication across the room returns the signal. Interesting to imagine though isn’t it.
How about this, you look at the recipient of your signal. When you make eye contact, you touch a pinky finger to your temple. It’s fairly subtle, but it’s unusual enough that your maiden aunt probably won’t do it accidentally (oh the repercussions of that!). Note however that you definitely don’t want to use the index finger for this signal. Your recipient is likely to conclude that you have decided to shoot yourself or them, and this isn’t the message you’re trying to convey, at least not until you’re sharing a bank account.
Assuming that the recipient of your signal hasn’t decided to call the police or a large gentleman with strange bulges under his jacket, AND if you have correctly identified the recipient as trans, AND if you appear to be in control of your faculties, AND if you haven’t committed an unforgivable fashion mistake (remember, it is now permissible to wear white year round), then the recipient may return your signal. This indicates you may feel free to approach the recipient for self-introductions. Of course discretion is still expected. Shouting, “Here I come honey!” and doing some broken-field running across the room will not be appreciated.
It occurs to me that establishing a recognition signal is just the start. Any secret organization worth its salt will also have other signals to allow clandestine communication between members. To close this article of dubious literary work, I offer some additional signals that we should consider adopting. I also welcome readers to pass along their ideas for other signals.
The signal: With your arms at your sides, turn your hands so the palms face to the rear. Touch your thumbs and forefingers together (like an OK sign), then repeatedly bend your wrists so your fingers move back and forth.
The meaning: Your panties are slipping down and you’re in danger of tripping. (Of course this is a warning to another sister in a skirt or a dress. If your own panties are slipping, pull the darn things up.)
The signal: Stand in one spot while wearing high heels, sway your upper body while displaying a pained look on your face. (The last step is necessary to avoid confusion with dancing.)
The meaning: I can no longer stand in my heels. Please bring me a swooning couch and a Mint Julep.
The signal: Hike your skirt up and run like mad to the serving area.
The meaning: The buffet line is now open. (OK, this one isn’t strictly limited to our community, but we girls can put away the food like a bunch of guys, so you don’t want to be late getting in line.)
The meaning: Thank you for being yourself, and for helping me be myself.
The signal: A hug and air kisses.
Hugs,
Greer