Roberta Marie
10-04-2010, 08:29 AM
While I'm posting about accidents while crossdressed, I thought I'ld post a story that I wrote for our local support group about an incident I had this Spring. Again, I hope that it will calm fears about going out.
Driving to Cleveland
“A quarter tank of gas should be enough to get me to the West side of Cleveland and back”, I thought to myself. “I’ll stop and fill up on the way home.”
I had left the house about 15 minutes later than I had planned to get to Union Station by 7:00. Twice I was interrupted while I was putting on my makeup by my sons, one needing some money for the evening and the other wanting me to test a guitar cable. And then there was the time spent staring at a skirt and a pair of jeans, trying to decide which to wear. I was driving to Cleveland to meet some friends for dinner. I had never been to Union Station, a TG friendly gay bar and restaurant on the West side, and I had no idea what to expect.
It was raining when I left the house, and when I got on I-480 in Streetsboro the shower turned into a downpour. As I passed the Rt. 91 exit, the rain got so heavy that I tapped the brake pedal to turn off the cruise control and slowed down because of the poor visibility. “At least the grooves in the road from the construction should help prevent hydroplaning”, I thought as I hit another expanse of standing water. But now my entire cushion of time was lost, I had no time to spare.
As I passed under the Rt. 82 underpass, I thought that the rain was letting up a bit, when I saw, about a quarter mile ahead, a huge spray of water as a car ahead of me hit some standing water. Then I say the black blur of the car go over the embankment to the right of the road and disappear. “Oh, s###”, I said out loud, as I checked my mirrors for traffic coming down the entrance ramp and behind me, turned on my right turn signal, and began to break hard.
When I came to a stop on the side berm, I looked to the right and saw a huge section of the chain link fence that had been flattened to the ground as I pushed the button for the hazard lights and reached into my purse for my cell phone. The car was nowhere to be seen, but other people that had pulled over were starting to emerge from cars in front of me.
“This should be interesting,” I thought, as I looked down at the water that looked to be a few inches deep in the drainage ditch, then up the steep embankment to the torn up fence. I had decided on the knee length skirt and was wearing 3 inch heels. “At least the rain has stopped!” I stepped as far over the water in the ditch as I could, but my left foot disappeared into muddy water half way up my calf. As I put my weight onto my right foot on the other side of the ditch, I was a bit surprised that my shoe was still on my left foot as I pulled it out of the water. Up the embankment and over the fence that was lying flat on the ground, I saw a black SUV crossover resting on its left side in a back yard. A man was yelling at the occupants, asking if they were OK. I could not hear what, if any response that he got. I dialed 911 on my phone, but heard only silence. I hit clear, and dialed again.
“Summit County 911”, the woman’s voice seemed to have a sense of urgency. “What is the location of your emergency?” “Twinsburg, I think,” I responded. Looking at the man trying to gain access to the car I asked, “Twinsburg?” “Yeah,” he responded. After I was transferred to the Twinsburg dispatch center and told the dispatcher what I was looking at, she said that they had just dispatched police and fire to the scene, and asked me to confirm the address, which I did with the man that was yelling at the car.
“Did you try to open the doors,” I asked the man, as I reached up and tried to lift the door handle that was now above my head? It was still locked. Just then, another man carrying a hammer approached the back passenger window from the direction of the house behind me, swung, and shattered the glass in before I could tell him that it would be better to break out the back window. He looked down into the broken out window, and I heard him apologize to the person that he had just covered with shattered glass. He then walked around and broke out the rear window, and a man emerged from the car. “Are you hurt,” I asked? “No, I’m OK,” came the response!
I stepped around to the back of the car and stooped down to peer into the passenger compartment. “How many people were in the car,” I asked? “Just the 2 of us,” he responded as I saw a woman emerge from the front seat, stooped over and walking on the driver side door, carrying her purse. “Do you have a phone,” she asked as she handed me her purse, then her sunglasses, then a handful of keys. “Yes”, I responded. “I already called 911.” “I’m more worried about calling my kids,” she said, as she twisted to try to climb out of the broken window. “Are you hurt”, I asked? “No, I’m OK. I’m not hurt at all.” “OK, watch out that you don’t get cut on the glass,” I said as she looked for something to hold on to as she stepped through the window opening.
She walked over to the man that had been in the car with her, and gave him a hug as a police officer strode up to the scene. As I handed her purse, keys, and sunglasses, the cop looked at me and pointed to the couple, asking nonverbally if they were the “victims”. I nodded, “They were the only two in the car.” Acknowledging, he pulled a pad and pen from his breast pocket and began to talk to the couple as 3 young ladies walked up to the scene.
“Is anybody hurt,” one of them asked? “Apparently not,” I responded. “We’re nurses, and thought we should stop and see if anybody needed help,” another said. I thought about telling them that I was a retired firefighter/paramedic, but thought about how I was dressed and decided that nothing would be gained by doing so. They turned and we all started to walk back towards the embankment after I pulled off my shoes to make the walk through the mud and grass easier. That’s when I noticed the mud and grass that had accumulated on my feet and legs.
“Well”, I said. “I was supposed to go out to dinner, but I may have to go back home and get cleaned up.”
“We were on our way to my bachelorette party,” said one of the girls. That’s when I noticed that they were all dressed in nice capris and heels, and she was wearing a tiara. “Well congratulations,” I exclaimed! “I’m sure you’ll still have a great time.”
At the top of the embankment I put my shoes back on to walk over the chain link fence, and waded through the water in the drainage ditch, hoping that it would wash off the mud. When I got back to my car I looked down at my legs, and saw that most of the mud and grass had washed off, and decided that it was a good thing that I decided on the skirt rather than the jeans I was thinking about. The jeans would have been soaked, but my skirt was dry. I decided to drive on to Union Station, hoping that I could get some paper towels to clean off the bits of grass that clung to my legs.
As I continued on my drive, I thought about a conversation that I had had in one of the online support groups a year or so ago. One of the persons in the conversation said that she kept a change of men’s clothes in her car whenever she went out dressed in case she came upon an emergency. Another said that she would not consider stopping in such a situation, for fear of being outed. I said that I wouldn’t think that I could get changed quick enough to make a difference in an emergency. And while I had never been in an emergency situation while I was dressed and could not say for sure how I would react, I would hope that I would not allow how I was dressed keep me from helping someone in a potentially life threatening situation.
I drove on and the sun came out. As I reached into my purse for my sunglasses I was a little proud that I was able to live up to my words. I have no reason to believe that I was outed. No one reacted badly, and I was not threatened. Quite the contrary, my assistance was welcomed, and I was just one of a few people that had stopped to help.
Driving to Cleveland
“A quarter tank of gas should be enough to get me to the West side of Cleveland and back”, I thought to myself. “I’ll stop and fill up on the way home.”
I had left the house about 15 minutes later than I had planned to get to Union Station by 7:00. Twice I was interrupted while I was putting on my makeup by my sons, one needing some money for the evening and the other wanting me to test a guitar cable. And then there was the time spent staring at a skirt and a pair of jeans, trying to decide which to wear. I was driving to Cleveland to meet some friends for dinner. I had never been to Union Station, a TG friendly gay bar and restaurant on the West side, and I had no idea what to expect.
It was raining when I left the house, and when I got on I-480 in Streetsboro the shower turned into a downpour. As I passed the Rt. 91 exit, the rain got so heavy that I tapped the brake pedal to turn off the cruise control and slowed down because of the poor visibility. “At least the grooves in the road from the construction should help prevent hydroplaning”, I thought as I hit another expanse of standing water. But now my entire cushion of time was lost, I had no time to spare.
As I passed under the Rt. 82 underpass, I thought that the rain was letting up a bit, when I saw, about a quarter mile ahead, a huge spray of water as a car ahead of me hit some standing water. Then I say the black blur of the car go over the embankment to the right of the road and disappear. “Oh, s###”, I said out loud, as I checked my mirrors for traffic coming down the entrance ramp and behind me, turned on my right turn signal, and began to break hard.
When I came to a stop on the side berm, I looked to the right and saw a huge section of the chain link fence that had been flattened to the ground as I pushed the button for the hazard lights and reached into my purse for my cell phone. The car was nowhere to be seen, but other people that had pulled over were starting to emerge from cars in front of me.
“This should be interesting,” I thought, as I looked down at the water that looked to be a few inches deep in the drainage ditch, then up the steep embankment to the torn up fence. I had decided on the knee length skirt and was wearing 3 inch heels. “At least the rain has stopped!” I stepped as far over the water in the ditch as I could, but my left foot disappeared into muddy water half way up my calf. As I put my weight onto my right foot on the other side of the ditch, I was a bit surprised that my shoe was still on my left foot as I pulled it out of the water. Up the embankment and over the fence that was lying flat on the ground, I saw a black SUV crossover resting on its left side in a back yard. A man was yelling at the occupants, asking if they were OK. I could not hear what, if any response that he got. I dialed 911 on my phone, but heard only silence. I hit clear, and dialed again.
“Summit County 911”, the woman’s voice seemed to have a sense of urgency. “What is the location of your emergency?” “Twinsburg, I think,” I responded. Looking at the man trying to gain access to the car I asked, “Twinsburg?” “Yeah,” he responded. After I was transferred to the Twinsburg dispatch center and told the dispatcher what I was looking at, she said that they had just dispatched police and fire to the scene, and asked me to confirm the address, which I did with the man that was yelling at the car.
“Did you try to open the doors,” I asked the man, as I reached up and tried to lift the door handle that was now above my head? It was still locked. Just then, another man carrying a hammer approached the back passenger window from the direction of the house behind me, swung, and shattered the glass in before I could tell him that it would be better to break out the back window. He looked down into the broken out window, and I heard him apologize to the person that he had just covered with shattered glass. He then walked around and broke out the rear window, and a man emerged from the car. “Are you hurt,” I asked? “No, I’m OK,” came the response!
I stepped around to the back of the car and stooped down to peer into the passenger compartment. “How many people were in the car,” I asked? “Just the 2 of us,” he responded as I saw a woman emerge from the front seat, stooped over and walking on the driver side door, carrying her purse. “Do you have a phone,” she asked as she handed me her purse, then her sunglasses, then a handful of keys. “Yes”, I responded. “I already called 911.” “I’m more worried about calling my kids,” she said, as she twisted to try to climb out of the broken window. “Are you hurt”, I asked? “No, I’m OK. I’m not hurt at all.” “OK, watch out that you don’t get cut on the glass,” I said as she looked for something to hold on to as she stepped through the window opening.
She walked over to the man that had been in the car with her, and gave him a hug as a police officer strode up to the scene. As I handed her purse, keys, and sunglasses, the cop looked at me and pointed to the couple, asking nonverbally if they were the “victims”. I nodded, “They were the only two in the car.” Acknowledging, he pulled a pad and pen from his breast pocket and began to talk to the couple as 3 young ladies walked up to the scene.
“Is anybody hurt,” one of them asked? “Apparently not,” I responded. “We’re nurses, and thought we should stop and see if anybody needed help,” another said. I thought about telling them that I was a retired firefighter/paramedic, but thought about how I was dressed and decided that nothing would be gained by doing so. They turned and we all started to walk back towards the embankment after I pulled off my shoes to make the walk through the mud and grass easier. That’s when I noticed the mud and grass that had accumulated on my feet and legs.
“Well”, I said. “I was supposed to go out to dinner, but I may have to go back home and get cleaned up.”
“We were on our way to my bachelorette party,” said one of the girls. That’s when I noticed that they were all dressed in nice capris and heels, and she was wearing a tiara. “Well congratulations,” I exclaimed! “I’m sure you’ll still have a great time.”
At the top of the embankment I put my shoes back on to walk over the chain link fence, and waded through the water in the drainage ditch, hoping that it would wash off the mud. When I got back to my car I looked down at my legs, and saw that most of the mud and grass had washed off, and decided that it was a good thing that I decided on the skirt rather than the jeans I was thinking about. The jeans would have been soaked, but my skirt was dry. I decided to drive on to Union Station, hoping that I could get some paper towels to clean off the bits of grass that clung to my legs.
As I continued on my drive, I thought about a conversation that I had had in one of the online support groups a year or so ago. One of the persons in the conversation said that she kept a change of men’s clothes in her car whenever she went out dressed in case she came upon an emergency. Another said that she would not consider stopping in such a situation, for fear of being outed. I said that I wouldn’t think that I could get changed quick enough to make a difference in an emergency. And while I had never been in an emergency situation while I was dressed and could not say for sure how I would react, I would hope that I would not allow how I was dressed keep me from helping someone in a potentially life threatening situation.
I drove on and the sun came out. As I reached into my purse for my sunglasses I was a little proud that I was able to live up to my words. I have no reason to believe that I was outed. No one reacted badly, and I was not threatened. Quite the contrary, my assistance was welcomed, and I was just one of a few people that had stopped to help.