Working out the PROBO
We went for a very nice meal last night at a rather posh Chinese restaurant, that sits rather incongrously in a quite seedy part of town, rubbing shoulders with a car wash, a crummy nightclub and an electrical sub-station.
About half-way through the meal the owner came over and gave me a quizzical look, saying "do I know you from school?"
I then immediately knew his name, as there weren't that many Chinese people at my school (which was in a different, more rural, part of Norfolk). His family owned the local Chinese there too, and the empire had since expanded to include a couple of King's Lynn restaurants.
I would say the name of the restaurant but I've just worked out the "Potential Route Of Being Outed" (PROBO) if I do so. A PROBO is a hypothetical series of events that leave one open to being found out as a tranny by people who you didn't want to know. Having been on the recieving end of several PROBOs that actually came to fruition, I've learned to be a little cautious about them. I don't mind people knowing, I just prefer knowing that they know.
For information, in this case the PROBO is:
Okay, I might be over-exaggerating the last step.
And hey, what do I care if a bunch of people I never see anymore find out I occasionally wear dresses?
But still, I'd rather not have the hassle, really.
If you're a local to Lynn you'll probably work out which restaurant I'm talking about anyway, and I recommend it wholeheartedly. Tell them Becky sent you.
About half-way through the meal the owner came over and gave me a quizzical look, saying "do I know you from school?"
I then immediately knew his name, as there weren't that many Chinese people at my school (which was in a different, more rural, part of Norfolk). His family owned the local Chinese there too, and the empire had since expanded to include a couple of King's Lynn restaurants.
I would say the name of the restaurant but I've just worked out the "Potential Route Of Being Outed" (PROBO) if I do so. A PROBO is a hypothetical series of events that leave one open to being found out as a tranny by people who you didn't want to know. Having been on the recieving end of several PROBOs that actually came to fruition, I've learned to be a little cautious about them. I don't mind people knowing, I just prefer knowing that they know.
For information, in this case the PROBO is:
Owner Googles the name of his restaurant ->Â
Owner finds my site ->Â
Owner remembers speaking to me ->Â
Owner tells other old schoolfriends that I'm a tranny ->Â
Torch-wielding mob from old school descends on my house.
Okay, I might be over-exaggerating the last step.
And hey, what do I care if a bunch of people I never see anymore find out I occasionally wear dresses?
But still, I'd rather not have the hassle, really.
If you're a local to Lynn you'll probably work out which restaurant I'm talking about anyway, and I recommend it wholeheartedly. Tell them Becky sent you.
Thanks for stopping by. =)
By the way, I very nearly adopted a cat with the same "bone structure" yesterday but my application was denied.
... to which - hopefully - most decent folk say: "Oh, good for him" and give a shrug of the shoulders before carrying on.
Unless you're from a small town where everyone is backwards.
Not that I'm bitter. :)
On Sunday, I'll be going to that other local Chinese restaurant (the one attached to the petrol station, next to the dump) to take advantage of their rather good buffet.
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