Warning: Long Post
I have been on the edges for a while, reading, checking in, but saving my post #200 for something special. I think what happened last night qualifies.
My SO, who is very supportive, was out for the evening. I was working on some home improvement projects and after finishing up somewhat late, I decided to get girly. Originally I was planning on just wearing pants and a blouse, and being somewhat casual. However, as I added the hip pads, waist cincher, and breast forms in the transformation process, my mind was also transformed. I found myself upgrading my look to a tight little black mid-thigh skirt with a white blouse under a sheer black and gold patterned loose-fitting top. High heels, YES! I’m only 6’-2” without them, so another 3” is just perfect. Tall, yes, but I just love the way they feel; and the walk. Oh, yes, the walk...but I digress.
What to do, what to do? My car was in the driveway, and there was no way to get to it other than walk out the door in plain sight of any neighbors. I have done this many times, always after dark, and if anyone has seen me, nothing has been mentioned. Sometimes I wish the streetlight was located differently. It was about 10:00pm when I packed my emergency gear (a pair of flats, sweat shirt & sweat pants) in a bag, grabbed my purse, touched up my lipstick, and Lauren went out the door.
It felt great to be out of the house and on the road. I have driven in heels enough to be comfortable, and I felt very comfortable. So comfortable in fact that I thought “well, may as well get some gas”, so down the freeway I went to a station a few miles away. Getting in and out of a mid-80's sports car is such fun in a tight skirt. Hey, who am I kidding? Doing anything in a tight skirt is fun! Anyway, you have to be a lady or it just doesn't work. Gassed up, probably giving the two guys sharing an adult beverage in a truck across the lot something to look at, and then headed to the Post Office. My outfit was a little too dressy for the market, and the Post Office is usually empty. I was in luck again. Spent a few minutes checking out my reflection and wiggle in the big glass windows of the Post Office. Oh! The wonderful sound of my heels on the hard surface floors, reverberating off the walls and ceiling was almost enough to make me stay longer. It was getting late. Time to head home.
It was getting to be about 11:00pm, and there were just a couple of cars on the neighborhood streets. I approached my house feeling very relaxed, ready to slowly pull into my driveway, when suddenly a police car appeared behind me with its lights flashing! And that whoop! sound they make to let you know they mean YOU. I was being pulled over, right in front of my house!! Oh, yes, right under the streetlight!
Foolish me, and can’t believe I did this, but I got out of the car and approached the police officer who had also exited his car. I was wondering what was wrong, and was hoping that I could briefly talk with the officer and then quickly go inside. Not a chance! He firmly asked me get back in my car, twice, so I did. If there ever is a “next time”, I’m staying in the car! Got out my license, insurance and registration, and waited.
After what seemed like forever, he appeared at the passenger door ask for the standard items. I handed them to him and he acted totally normal. He looked at my registration, license and insurance card, then asked “do you live here?”, and I said “yes”. He looked at the license again and asked “is this you?”. I said “yes”. He again looked at the picture on the license, looked at me, looked at the picture again, and then he said very matter-of-fact like “it doesn’t look like you”. I’m sitting there in a short black skirt, black tights, white blouse, lipstick, wig, pearl necklace and earrings - and I don’t look like my drivers license photo? Duh! I suppose in retrospect I should have taken that as a compliment, but at the time I just said “I am wearing a wig”. He asked if I would remove it, so I did. He took another look at both the license and me, nodded, and said “ok”.
I finally asked what the problem was, and he said I had failed to use my turn signal on the last two turns. Slow night for him I guess. Fortunately I never drink & dress & drive ( I suspect the officer may have thought I was drunk because I didn't use my turn signals). He handed me my information and thanked me, then got in his car and drove away without saying another word, leaving me sitting there under the street light, half in my driveway, with my wig on the passenger seat next to my purse. I needed to get inside.
Gee, I’m sure my car was not too obvious after having spent the last ten minutes in front of a police cruiser with flashing lights. And, yes, my car is the only one like it in the neighborhood. And as it was sitting in front of my house, it is a pretty safe guess as to whom the neighbors may assume to be inside. I had already removed my wig, and as I sat there a minute I was hoping some of the bushes were perhaps reducing visibility from the neighbor’s windows. However, I also knew that at least four of the houses across the street had a direct view of the proceedings.
I hastily wiped off my lipstick and put on my sweat shirt, then after moving my car fully into the driveway, I fumbled to slip on the sweat pants. Remember..late model sporty car. Not much wiggle room, and my skirt had not become any less tight while this was happening. Finally, sweat pants in place, mostly, I slipped on my flats, did the finger comb thing with my hair (resuming guy mode), and walked as casually as I could, heart beating very rapidly, into the house. Oh, MY!
Don’t know what the neighbors saw. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. I’m hoping maybe nothing, or just enough of me in guy mode to keep them curious about the events of the evening, but not about my original femme attire. It was quite an unexpected experience, one which has made me very happy that I always pack emergency gear with me in the passenger seat when driving alone. I have never had a reason to use it before, but last night my feminine intuition let me know very strongly when leaving the house that I needed to take it with me!
Having a police car pull you over is never something to look forward to, but he was courteous, and other than having to remove my wig to prove that it was really me in the drivers license photo, it was pretty routine as far as being pulled over by the police goes. I suspect he has another tale to tell back at the station, but then, so do I….
Lauren
Originally Posted by Lauren Richards
I now wonder if the Cop just saw a hot lady and wanted to get to know her
Ericka
Similar incident
Love as always Jasminexxxxxxxx
