Years of carrying ridiculously heavy loads has taken its toll on the yak. You may not be able to see it in this photo, but that oxygen tank is suspended from the top rails of the thing because when I loaded the empty to take back to airgas the last weld in the rear left corner went pop, leaving the left and rear sides of the deck waving in the wind (and since I laid my xtra up for a reframing I’ve not had anything else I’m willing to use to carry wannabe rockets around town with.)
Applause for the people at airgas, too. I stroll in dressed (in the orcish version of) full femme and almost a weeks worth of pre-electrolysis stubble and nobody blinks an eye or looks distressed at this huge old amazon of a woman shopping for compressed air.
Didn’t deadname me either; after I told them I changed my name to protect the innocent they called me Jessica and started the process of correcting the name on my account. There are days when I really love portland and this is one of them.