I Am A Manatee Trapped In A Man’s Body

Eric Minor Owner, Animal Crackers Kid's Store
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Although I was born to human parents, I self-identify as a manatee. Oh to meander through languid coastal estuaries, grazing on shoal grass and pickerel weed for seven hours a day and sleeping the rest ─ that is the life for me.

Instead, I am trapped inside the body of a Homo sapiens. The unfairness of it all! No lazy days under the hot southern Georgia sun. It is all mortgages, bumper-to-bumper commutes, design meetings, and stair-stepper machines. Dog eat dog.

I am beginning to have hope that there is light on the horizon and that someday soon I can live my dream. Due to the tireless efforts of open minded liberal activists, the trans-species bigots are finally being beaten back into the shadows with the KKK where they belong.

I have been the president of the local chapter of the NAAAA (National Association for the Advancement of Aquatic Animals) for several years now (pronounced N-doubleA-doubleA). At times, not being a natural born manatee, I have felt like a bit of an imposter and have had to struggle with my own feelings of inadequacy and shame.

This is my own personal journey and I feel as I come to know myself better I will know when to make the full transition. Sadly, this decision is not just a function of my own unalienable right to be the being I want to be ─ there is a significant financial component involved and the medical insurance complex in America, Obamacare or no, is still mired in dark age misconceptions and prejudices.

You would think $10 million (for the manatee surgery) was the end of the world the way some of these corrupt insurance industry executives carry on. Cripes, a single stealth bomber costs a whopping $550 million ─ what is a measly $10 million compared to that? And as a bonus, I do not drop weapons of death and destruction on innocent jihadists that simply want to be heard!

If the problems with the insurance industry are not enough, there are still significant hurdles in the workplace. In my twenty year adult working career, I do not believe I have ever seen an office with more than just the usual “M” and “W” restrooms. Is it a lot to ask for a little consideration in this area? I know that many of you out there agree with me on this.

I think there is plenty of room for compromise. I do not think we need separate rest rooms for all the different trans-species variants (jungles, swamps, savannahs, etc). But we can show some level of consideration for our co-workers, can we not? Please, check your privilege!

As a quick side note to my allies in this fight, I would like to suggest we go with “S” for “Species Flexible” in our battle cry. Unless I have missed a meeting, I believe that will land us at LGBTXS. Note that I do not think we should reuse the “T” for both trans-sexual and trans-species ─ it would both dilute the impact of each and possibly cause internecine conflicts within our ranks. (No, I do not think those Klingon wannabes should have their own letter — those guys are freaks!)

Although I look at the road forward with some trepidation, I am comforted by the fact that I will no longer have to pay income taxes after I make the transition. I have taken a close look at the tax code, and as far as I can tell, it only applies to people (including corporations) ─ not manatees. God bless America!

Eric Minor is a software consultant based in the greater Seattle area.