Day at Deaths Birth and Marriages Beware of weight loss)

Went to Deaths Birth and Marriages to have my birth certificate changed from male to female. I finally found the right department on the grown floor of a multi story building in Collins Street Melbourne. When you enter the room there is a ticket machine where you get your ticket that has a number so people can not push-in. There were about fifty people in the room waiting their turn. So I duly sat down and waited and waited for a long hour. Finally like a bingo game my lucky number magically appeared on the screen. I immediately jumped up with my winning ticket in hand. My heart was nearly jumping out of my chest with a mixture of excitement and fear. I duly proceeded to the counter with as much decorum and elegantly as possible.

I greeted the assistant with the words “You poor thing you have drown the sort end of the straw”. She smiled politely and probably thought yes probably have. Looking at it from her side of the counter was a six foot two inch transgender person trying to be funny.

Then came the long explanation of what I wanted. I started “I would like to have my Birth Certificate changed, the part that says sex I want changed from male to female“. The assistant chimed in and said “Yes I can do that for you (silly girl) if you have all your papers with you”. I then shook my head and said “Yes I have all my papers but you will not be able to change the certificate” she looked puzzled I then went on to explain that in Victoria if you are married you can not have your birth certificate changed.

At this point I noticed her supervisor taking an interest in my case. I proceeded to explain that this would mean that two people of the same sex would be married, which is something shocking in Australia. She then looked at me puzzled and asked the overuse question “What do you want me to do?” Now comes the interesting bit I wanted a letter from Birth Death and Marriages saying that they would not change my status. “Why she asked?”. Well I wanted my passport permanently changed to female. Which the Australian government will do if you have undergone sex reassignment surgery (SRS) or some other criteria. She looked to me with a blank expression on her face, and turned to her supervisor who just shrugged his shoulders and handed her the phone, telling her that he had not the foggiest idea what to do.

He gave her the departments head's phone number and smiled as he said “You explain what she wants and why”. Duly she called the number and started to explain the problem she was having with this funny looking woman had and could not resolve. After some minutes on the phone she came back to the counter with phone in tow, “Could you please explain to the head officer what you need”. I proceeded to explain my case. He listened attentively and then said with some relief that I would need a request from the Passport Office, unfortunate for him I had already had the letter. A sigh came over the phone, then the penny dropped a way of postponing the inevitable, “You will need to put your request in writing”, rats he had me the one thing I hadn't thought of. So with tail between legs I asked could I do it now he said smugly yes and the girl at the counter would help. But when asked she said it was illegal for her to write the letter that I would have to do the writing. I warned her that I was basically illiterate and my writing was eligible, but she stuck to the high ground. Then I went and wrote my complicated request in my best hand writing. When I was finished it looked like a fly had jumped in a jar of ink and randomly walked over the page. Then I proceeded with my epic in hand and shyly gave it to the assistant, she looked at it with some trepidation and said “That’s good all I need do is to photo copy all your documents” so off she went.

I was left standing at the counter with about fifty people sitting facing in my direction, manly bored out of their brains just as I was an hour ago. But some entertainment was going to be presented to then at my expense. I had been losing weight so I could have sex resentment surgery. When dressing in the morning I thought I would look good in a pair of black silk slakes and black knickers (the modest type) and a nice top, little bib I know what a mistake this was. While I was blissfully standing in front of all these people. I could feel something was not weight and looked down my lovely silk slacks had slipped to my knees. Panic hit me lick a hammer on the head, I quickly pulled then up and turned an un-listed shade of red. I did not look behind me but looked straight ahead. I thought I could hear a slight singer coming from the ordinance. The moral of the story is it doesn't pay to lose too much weight.