ChristineM
01-14-2011, 05:13 PM
Damn! I knew I should have worn flats, I'll never outrun the pitchfork wielding, torch waving mob in these boots! Oh, wait, it's not a mob. It's just one lady eying me. Probably wondering, is she he? Is he she? Is it them. Is ..wait, I just confused myself.
So a few months ago I survived my first trip out in drab to Dress Barn and Lane Bryant to purchase a few things for myself. Late November I found out my wife would be away on business this week and I decided today would be the DAY to step out! At which point I changed my mind, and then I changed my mind, and then...about every millisecond.
So I made my plan; decided how and where, which day to take off, etc. The military has a saying, no plan survives contact with the enemy. In this case, the enemy is life.
The plan, get myself together on Wednesday evening. Do all the necessary painting and fuzziness reduction. Then get up Thursday, finish the rebuilding project, and leave about 9am to hit an outlet mall an hour up the road and then have lunch.
Then my daughter graduated her certification program early and moved back home before Christmas. Life fires the first shot. Ah, but then she finds a job so I can still do the day. Except I've been taking her to work on my way to work so I'll have to take her to work that day, come back home, and then start in on the painting and plastering. No way to do any prep the night before. OK, I can still do this. I'll just not get out until 10am.
So, today's the DAY! At which point life doesn't fire a shot, it fires an artillery barrage. Suffice it to say that by 10am I'm barely starting getting dressed. About 11 I'm doing the nails
and think, damn, I'm just going to spend the day at home. I need to be home by four anyway. Finally, all painted and powdered, I'm sitting there and decide, oh Hell no, I'm doing this! My heart immediately leaps into my throat and tries to choke me to death. So, I swap all my ID and cards to my new girly wallet (bought for the occasion), load up my purse (borrowed for the occasions), and slip into my new coat (bought for the occasion, it's 39 here). I march to the door, grab the door handle, and am immediately hit by a paralyzing dart from a blowgun. At least, I figure that must be it though I still haven't figured out where the pygmy was hiding.
Finally, the drug wears off and I actually open the door. Great, my neighbor's car is in the drive. Watch, she'll step out the door just as I do. Ready, set, GO! Into the car and no neighbor. But I KNOW there's eyeballs behind every window wondering "who is that?" I can feel them! Start the car, take deep breath. Oops, narrowly missed another dart. Out the driveway and down the road. Course, I know everybody I pass is reading me. Probably calling everyone they know and telling them to watch out for this car.
Down the Interstate and pull off to find a place for lunch. It's after 1:00 so things shouldn't be too busy. Ah, ha, a Schlotzsky's Deli. Pull in, park, reach for the door and damn if that pygmy doesn't get me again. Finally, I make it out of the car. Look at myself in the car window. And look. Well, can't stand here all day girl. Into the deli. Only one person in front of me, she orders and moves on. I step up, bring out my very best Christine voice and order. Hey, who's playing with the squeaky toy? Oh. Back to the voice tapes. Counter person (lady in her late 50s maybe) doesn't bat an eye. Gives me my change, which I fumble into the wallet. Get my soup and cup and walk to the table. Get called for my wrap, which I ordered because I figured it'd be easier to eat ladylike. Note: next time get salad.
And as I'm returning to the table I realize something. I've lost a little bit of weight (on a diet, what girl isn't). Not a lot, just enough to make my pants looser! They're slipping down LOW on my hips! Luckily they stop, and luckily I'm wearing a long coat, but now, instead of the bottoms being above my ankles, they're on the floor. I NEED A BELT! I can see the headlines: "Crossdresser drops trou in Schlotzsky's". I survive to make it to the table. Eat my meal while trying to remember to sit up and act like a lady instead of shoveling it in hand over fist. This stuff is hard! Especially when one's heart is beating so fast that one is about to pass out.
When I'm done, I manage to slip my hands inside my coat and pull up my pants as I stand. I dump my tray, make my way up for a refill on my tea (a gentleman steps back to let me past!), and out to the car. Sit my cup on top of the car so I can get the keys out, making a note not to forget the cup (remember that). Open my purse and dump half of it on the pavement. So I squat down (on 57 year old knees, in heels) and retrieve everything but a dime. I am NOT getting on my knees and reaching under the car in this outfit for a lousy dime! Maybe a quarter. Unlock the car, sit down, take several deep breaths and wait for my hands to stop shaking. Start the car, and as I'm driving around to the exit some guy driving towards me is pointing at me. How the HELL does he know?!?! And then I realize he's pointing at the roof. Remember what I said to remember? Sigh. Stop the car and retrieve the drink, right in front of the main window for all to see.
So at this point it's either drive on down to the outlet to find a belt, or just shoot myself. Since I wasn't armed at the moment, I go for the belt. I get to the mall, park out a ways where it's empty, and start walking towards the Lane Bryant. Very few people out but I'm calculating paths to avoid all I can. Which of course means that I probably pass more than I would have if I took a straight shot. Enter the LB and the sales lady greets me. I say Hello and there's no squeaky toy to be found! But I do wonder who's doing the Danny Kaye voice (OK, I just dated myself). She points out what's on sale, mentions that they have tall sizes, and is just very friendly. I have no idea if she read me or not. I say thank you a few times as she's talking and then look for a belt. And they have almost nothing! Nothing that will work for sure. So I look around, find nothing I'm interested in (and I don't know that I'm ready to try on in the store), say good-bye and leave. The Dress Barn is a bit further on but I just realize something. This is the most walking I've *ever* done in heels and my feet *hurt*. Besides, my pants are slipping again. So I decide to call this a success and head back to the car and home.
Well, by now your eyes have glazed over and you're close to losing consciousness, so get a cup of tea and have a sit-down until it passes.
TA!
So a few months ago I survived my first trip out in drab to Dress Barn and Lane Bryant to purchase a few things for myself. Late November I found out my wife would be away on business this week and I decided today would be the DAY to step out! At which point I changed my mind, and then I changed my mind, and then...about every millisecond.
So I made my plan; decided how and where, which day to take off, etc. The military has a saying, no plan survives contact with the enemy. In this case, the enemy is life.
The plan, get myself together on Wednesday evening. Do all the necessary painting and fuzziness reduction. Then get up Thursday, finish the rebuilding project, and leave about 9am to hit an outlet mall an hour up the road and then have lunch.
Then my daughter graduated her certification program early and moved back home before Christmas. Life fires the first shot. Ah, but then she finds a job so I can still do the day. Except I've been taking her to work on my way to work so I'll have to take her to work that day, come back home, and then start in on the painting and plastering. No way to do any prep the night before. OK, I can still do this. I'll just not get out until 10am.
So, today's the DAY! At which point life doesn't fire a shot, it fires an artillery barrage. Suffice it to say that by 10am I'm barely starting getting dressed. About 11 I'm doing the nails
and think, damn, I'm just going to spend the day at home. I need to be home by four anyway. Finally, all painted and powdered, I'm sitting there and decide, oh Hell no, I'm doing this! My heart immediately leaps into my throat and tries to choke me to death. So, I swap all my ID and cards to my new girly wallet (bought for the occasion), load up my purse (borrowed for the occasions), and slip into my new coat (bought for the occasion, it's 39 here). I march to the door, grab the door handle, and am immediately hit by a paralyzing dart from a blowgun. At least, I figure that must be it though I still haven't figured out where the pygmy was hiding.
Finally, the drug wears off and I actually open the door. Great, my neighbor's car is in the drive. Watch, she'll step out the door just as I do. Ready, set, GO! Into the car and no neighbor. But I KNOW there's eyeballs behind every window wondering "who is that?" I can feel them! Start the car, take deep breath. Oops, narrowly missed another dart. Out the driveway and down the road. Course, I know everybody I pass is reading me. Probably calling everyone they know and telling them to watch out for this car.
Down the Interstate and pull off to find a place for lunch. It's after 1:00 so things shouldn't be too busy. Ah, ha, a Schlotzsky's Deli. Pull in, park, reach for the door and damn if that pygmy doesn't get me again. Finally, I make it out of the car. Look at myself in the car window. And look. Well, can't stand here all day girl. Into the deli. Only one person in front of me, she orders and moves on. I step up, bring out my very best Christine voice and order. Hey, who's playing with the squeaky toy? Oh. Back to the voice tapes. Counter person (lady in her late 50s maybe) doesn't bat an eye. Gives me my change, which I fumble into the wallet. Get my soup and cup and walk to the table. Get called for my wrap, which I ordered because I figured it'd be easier to eat ladylike. Note: next time get salad.
And as I'm returning to the table I realize something. I've lost a little bit of weight (on a diet, what girl isn't). Not a lot, just enough to make my pants looser! They're slipping down LOW on my hips! Luckily they stop, and luckily I'm wearing a long coat, but now, instead of the bottoms being above my ankles, they're on the floor. I NEED A BELT! I can see the headlines: "Crossdresser drops trou in Schlotzsky's". I survive to make it to the table. Eat my meal while trying to remember to sit up and act like a lady instead of shoveling it in hand over fist. This stuff is hard! Especially when one's heart is beating so fast that one is about to pass out.
When I'm done, I manage to slip my hands inside my coat and pull up my pants as I stand. I dump my tray, make my way up for a refill on my tea (a gentleman steps back to let me past!), and out to the car. Sit my cup on top of the car so I can get the keys out, making a note not to forget the cup (remember that). Open my purse and dump half of it on the pavement. So I squat down (on 57 year old knees, in heels) and retrieve everything but a dime. I am NOT getting on my knees and reaching under the car in this outfit for a lousy dime! Maybe a quarter. Unlock the car, sit down, take several deep breaths and wait for my hands to stop shaking. Start the car, and as I'm driving around to the exit some guy driving towards me is pointing at me. How the HELL does he know?!?! And then I realize he's pointing at the roof. Remember what I said to remember? Sigh. Stop the car and retrieve the drink, right in front of the main window for all to see.
So at this point it's either drive on down to the outlet to find a belt, or just shoot myself. Since I wasn't armed at the moment, I go for the belt. I get to the mall, park out a ways where it's empty, and start walking towards the Lane Bryant. Very few people out but I'm calculating paths to avoid all I can. Which of course means that I probably pass more than I would have if I took a straight shot. Enter the LB and the sales lady greets me. I say Hello and there's no squeaky toy to be found! But I do wonder who's doing the Danny Kaye voice (OK, I just dated myself). She points out what's on sale, mentions that they have tall sizes, and is just very friendly. I have no idea if she read me or not. I say thank you a few times as she's talking and then look for a belt. And they have almost nothing! Nothing that will work for sure. So I look around, find nothing I'm interested in (and I don't know that I'm ready to try on in the store), say good-bye and leave. The Dress Barn is a bit further on but I just realize something. This is the most walking I've *ever* done in heels and my feet *hurt*. Besides, my pants are slipping again. So I decide to call this a success and head back to the car and home.
Well, by now your eyes have glazed over and you're close to losing consciousness, so get a cup of tea and have a sit-down until it passes.
TA!