“It really sucks how you can’t say ‘woman’ anymore.”
“Who says?”
“They say. You know, like people, famous ones. Here, look. It’s all over the news. You can’t say ‘woman’ anymore.”
“It says woman right here, Jon, right in the headline. Seems like if you couldn’t say ‘woman’ anymore, they wouldn’t put it right there at the top.”
“No, Joan, you don’t get it. That’s why they said ‘woman’ in the article, because you can’t say it anymore.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, see, like you got people like yourself. You know? And like, you’re a woman, right? But like, you’re also not a woman, too, right? Not like they are.”
“I really don’t understand, Jon.”
“Okay, so it’s like this, right? You can’t give birth, but you’ve got, well, you know. Down there. Right? So that’s one thing. But at the same time, it’s the other thing - it’s what makes you different.”
“So, you’re saying I’m not a woman because I can’t have a baby, is that what you’re saying? It sounds like that’s what you’re saying.”
“No, that’s not it, really, no.”
“So, like, what are you saying?”
“Well, okay, maybe it’s like this, then. See these creamers? And the milks? Okay, so you got you, and people like you, right?”
“Yeah, women.”
“Okay, yeah. And then you got people who can have kids, like Bette Midler or whatever.”
“Okay, more women.”
“Okay, so you’re the same, but you’re different. It’s like this. Cream is milk, but milk isn’t cream.”
“What does this have to do with saying ‘women’?”
“So like, you have one row and that’s women. But like, over here, you’ve got people with uteruses and who breast feed and shit.”
“Okay, what about them?”
“And like you can’t call them women.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re not women! Well, they say they’re not women, I don’t know what they call themselves.”
“Okay, so they’re not ‘women’.”
“Right, so we can’t call them ‘women’.”
“I don’t see the big deal.”
“Well it’s annoying and confusing. Like you can’t call them ‘women’! What are you supposed to say to them?’
“I don’t know, what do they call themselves?”
“I don’t know. I know like Page, what’s-his-name, he says he’s a man.”
“Elliot, you mean. Yeah, he’s a man.”
“But he has a uterus.”
“I guess?”
“But he’s a man.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s just weird.”
“Jon, do you think I’m a woman?”
“Well…:
“Because I can show you my driver’s license. I can show you my health card.”
“It’s not that…”
“I can show you my cunt.”
“Joan, you know that’s not what I mean.”
“Well, shit, Jon, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know what I mean, Joan, I mean shit. You’re being difficult.”
“Because it sounds like you don’t think I’m a woman.”
“Joan..”
“Well, goddamnit man, I get shit all the fuckin’ time for being a woman and now you’re giving me shit because you don’t think I’m a woman.”
“Look, it’s hard, okay? It’s hard to keep up.”
“Oh, goddamnit, man. I don’t fuckin’ need this today.”
“Joan…”
“Look, dude. Okay? I’m talking the talk, I’m walking the walk. I’m doing my best here, man, and like I’ve shown patience but it’s getting really old really quick.”
“Okay, okay. Christ. Forget I said anything.”
“How am I supposed to forget if you don’t think I am who I say I am?”
“Why do you have to be so fuckin’ sensitive, Joan?”
“Why do you have to be such a fuckin’ cop, Jon?”
“Joan.”
“Jon.”
‘Yeah?”
“I need a smoke. You got a spare?”
“Here, go knock yourself out.”
“Come on, let’s go have a smoke. Get some air.”
“Alright. Ladies first,” he said.