"And that's when I told him to fuck off," Aralynn laughs, her black iPhone up to her pointed ear. The Elf was among a relatively small crowd of other city-dwellers, interesting in descending the stone stairs to the city's rather advanced subway system.
"Has he texted you back yet?" Her friend asks, excited to be filled in on the details of Aralynn's love-life.
"Nah, he doesn't strike me as that kind of guy." Once at the base of the stairs, she walks over to an automated terminal and slides a debit card into a designated slot, purchasing a ticket for the ride. She shifted her weight, her purple-lined grey skater shoes shifting over the cold, polished stone beneath her. Under the blue lights of the terminal, her already pale complexion appeared to glow, white as the driven snow and broken by her short hair. She prided herself on her ability to dye it various colors, and today it was a raven black with three short streaks of neon green on the buzzed left side.
Passing by the turnstile, she could now walk about the subway station freely, but for her journey to work, she wanted track 11. Of course, beforehand, she'd have to grab some coffee, and got in line at a small coffee stand just by her terminal. There were only a few people line before her, but it was enough to give her time to adjust her messenger bag and take a look around, pale green eyes scanning the faces of the other commuters. The bag she wore over her shoulder was a gift from her old boyfriend: a black bag, the main flap designed to look like a large pixel-art heart.
"Stace, I gotta go. I'm going to grab some coffee then get on the train." Aralynn hung up and checked the time on her phone. When she looked up, she had to catch herself from gasping. She became fixated on the exterior of a men's bathroom just a few doors away from the archway which led to track 11. One of the new Gender Assessment and Investigation officers was inspecting a man's rather impressive endowment, checking under his shaft, behind his sack, and even pulling his foreskin back to check the folds. In fact, she was so fixated on his manhood that she didn't even notice the barista calling for her. Her head shoots forward, a blush across her cheeks as she steps up and orders a medium latte.
Two minutes and she was down at track 11, latte in one hand, phone in the other with her purple earbuds in and tunes blazing. She had eclectic music tastes, preferring synthpop and hard rock over other genres. And right as her favorite song came on, it hit her: she really had to go! She had completely forgotten to go that morning before leaving her apartment, and now she had to. Before leaving the terminal to get to a restroom, she finished up her latte and chucked the white cup into a nearby trash-bin. A quick turn to the left and a couple of doors down, next to the men's room, was the lady's room with, surprisingly, no line.
To the overweight officer checking the prospective bathroom users, he would've been greeted with the sight of this Elf with a bag, short hair, skater shoes, frayed denim shorts, and lavender t-shirt with five interlocked blue squares, running towards him. He holds up his hand, Aralynn coming to a halt and squeezing her thighs together, starting to do that all too-well-known potty-dance.
"Miss," He began, his voice rather nasally, "I can't let you enter the bathroom without an inspection."
"Oh come on!" Aralynn whined, "Let me go use it, then I'll come back out and you can inspect me. I really gotta go!"
He cracked his knuckles before taking off his disposable gloves and flaunting a rather sick grin, "I can't let you do that, miss. I need to give you an inspection."
Aralynn had put up with this bullshit before, but no matter how many times she had to do this, it always felt degrading. The Elf rolled her eyes as she waited for his instructions, quickly checking his name-tag. Joe. Joe Shmoe. She had to catch a train and pee. She didn't have time for this inspection! Based on his patchy beard and rather greasy hair, she made the assumption that he didn't get out much and might be using his position to get a free look at people's junk so he doesn't have to look at it online.
