Sandy Clifton
11-03-2013, 03:43 AM
Wiffle ball!
A week before Halloween, there it was, in the back of my office filing
cabinet, calling to me. Unexpectedly spotting that plastic orb in the middle
of a work day unearthed memories of October 31, 2006, when a costumed
Sandy blindsided the office with a barrage of Wiffle balls. Here's what
transpired:
Having made a full-on femme appearance at work for Halloween 2003,
three years later I was still hesitant to attempt a repeat performance, being
leery of garnering a rep as a perennial crossdresser. In addition, I wasn't
eager to perform the requisite full-body shave. My solution was to put
together a female costume that covered up all that hair, as well as my face.
The recipient of my imitative flattery was Cat Osterman, a celebrated softball
pitcher at UT-Austin:
http://www.espn.go.com/media/ncaa/2005/0217/photo/osterman_i.jpg
Standing over six-feet tall, she was a suitable candidate for impersonation.
I pieced together a Longhorn uniform, bought a clip-on ponytail, and
made a mask using a technique similar to that employed by Jessica Trance:
http://www.jessicatrance.com/how_to_do.htm
My "trick" was to be accompanied by the traditional treat of candy, delivered
via the aforementioned untraditional vessel: I determined that the trademark
Wiffle slots accommodated implantation of small packs of SweeTarts.
Instead of slinging the sweets at my daytime co-workers, I played things
straight during business hours before returning in costume to anonymously
barrage the night shift. Wiffle balls ended up spread throughout the
office; I later recovered one of them and placed it in my filing cabinet
as a memento.
So, in 2013, facing a set of circumstances similar to those in 2006 (my
body hair had finally regrown after an all-over wax in June; an uncostumed
Sandy had visited the office on October 31, 2011 and wasn't ready to
reappear as herself), I belatedly realized that I wouldn't have to skip
Halloween this year!
I literally paid the price for my dilatory decision by having to spring
for overnight shipping on two dozen "King" size Wiffle balls. The
uniform was ready to go after seven years in storage, but I decided to
change up the above-the-neck disguise: in the intervening years, I'd bought
an Angelina Jolie-inspired full-head latex mask from Greyland Film.
Cat bears a reasonable likeness to Angelina, so I figured the new
mask would be an upgrade, though its baldness would require the
addition of a wig. While at the souvenir shop to purchase a headband
to hide the hairline, I also picked up some eye-black stickers featuring
Longhorn logos.
After loading the candy-filled balls into a mesh laundry bag, on Thursday
evening I slipped into my building's unisex bathroom, locked the door,
and began to don my costume. After fulfilling my lone depilation obligation
(I shaved my hands), I gaffed before wriggling into my FemSkin girdle. I
then bloused my pants, secured my breast forms with a sports bra, and put
on the undershirt and jersey. The mask completed the transformation,
though my male features distorted lovely Angelina/Cat into something
rather less appealing (see photo below).
Since all the night shift personnel had turned over since the previous
ambush, the attack was a successful surprise. Amidst a constant murmur
of "Who is that?", I silently and gently lobbed the treats to the bewildered
staff, except for one oblivious guy, whom I pegged in the back with a
long-distance toss. Following the strike, I took my leave and set out on foot
for my next destination, where I suspected I might find some Cat fanciers.
You see, my office is within walking distance of a favorite gathering spot
of UT fans: the Frank C. Erwin, Jr. Special Events Center. On Halloween
night, it was hosting a Texas women's basketball exhibition game, with
free admission. I tipped the usher a candyball on the way in, then made
my way to the seating area. I walked amongst the aisles, handing out
treats, until a group of tween girls spotted me and called me over with
cries of "Miss! Miss!". I lavished them with SweeTarts and got one of
them to take my picture after I unclipped my smartphone from my glove
(see photo below).
After failing to attract the attention of the TV cameras (come on Longhorn
Network, is a blowout exhibition game really more interesting than a
burnt orange-clad Joanie Appleseed?), I left the Erwin Center and
headed for Austin's prime Halloween gathering spot: Sixth Street!
During the ten-block walk downtown, I encountered a few revelers,
who generally found me creepy. Spying my reflection in a storefront
window, I was reminded of the Baseball Furies gang from The Warriors.
Not helping matters was the fact that the Velcro securing the back of the
mask had come unglued, resulting in unsightly forehead bumps. I was fine
with presenting as scary instead of pretty, though: it was Halloween!
Upon reaching the Sixth Street throng, I took a selfie (see photo below)
and trekked back and forth along the promenade a few times, checking
out all the costumes. A couple of folks asked to get their picture taken
with me, and I naturally obliged. Eventually I sashayed west of Congress
Avenue (to the extent one can sashay in cleats) over to the gay bar district.
As I walked by some drag queens waiting to get into a club, one patron
said to me, "I can't tell if you are a guy or a girl." With my smile hidden
under the mask, I gave him a Wiffle ball.
After exhausting my supply of treats, I set up my phone on a windowsill and
took another photo (see below) before making the journey to the State
Capitol. I took one final picture (below) while mimicking the left-arm-raised
pose of The Goddess Of Liberty, who's barely visible atop the dome. I
gritted out the slog back to my car, took off the sweat-filled mask, and
picked up some fast food on the way home (the drive-thru guy either
didn't notice I was female from the neck down or didn't care to bring it up).
Once I was home, enjoying the relief of stripping down and untucking, I
recalled my childhood go-to Halloween costume: a Spider-Man outfit,
which always led me to ponder whether I was trick-or-treating as
Spider-Man or as Peter Parker. In this latest undercover endeavor,
I wonder if Sandy let the Cat out of the bag?
A week before Halloween, there it was, in the back of my office filing
cabinet, calling to me. Unexpectedly spotting that plastic orb in the middle
of a work day unearthed memories of October 31, 2006, when a costumed
Sandy blindsided the office with a barrage of Wiffle balls. Here's what
transpired:
Having made a full-on femme appearance at work for Halloween 2003,
three years later I was still hesitant to attempt a repeat performance, being
leery of garnering a rep as a perennial crossdresser. In addition, I wasn't
eager to perform the requisite full-body shave. My solution was to put
together a female costume that covered up all that hair, as well as my face.
The recipient of my imitative flattery was Cat Osterman, a celebrated softball
pitcher at UT-Austin:
http://www.espn.go.com/media/ncaa/2005/0217/photo/osterman_i.jpg
Standing over six-feet tall, she was a suitable candidate for impersonation.
I pieced together a Longhorn uniform, bought a clip-on ponytail, and
made a mask using a technique similar to that employed by Jessica Trance:
http://www.jessicatrance.com/how_to_do.htm
My "trick" was to be accompanied by the traditional treat of candy, delivered
via the aforementioned untraditional vessel: I determined that the trademark
Wiffle slots accommodated implantation of small packs of SweeTarts.
Instead of slinging the sweets at my daytime co-workers, I played things
straight during business hours before returning in costume to anonymously
barrage the night shift. Wiffle balls ended up spread throughout the
office; I later recovered one of them and placed it in my filing cabinet
as a memento.
So, in 2013, facing a set of circumstances similar to those in 2006 (my
body hair had finally regrown after an all-over wax in June; an uncostumed
Sandy had visited the office on October 31, 2011 and wasn't ready to
reappear as herself), I belatedly realized that I wouldn't have to skip
Halloween this year!
I literally paid the price for my dilatory decision by having to spring
for overnight shipping on two dozen "King" size Wiffle balls. The
uniform was ready to go after seven years in storage, but I decided to
change up the above-the-neck disguise: in the intervening years, I'd bought
an Angelina Jolie-inspired full-head latex mask from Greyland Film.
Cat bears a reasonable likeness to Angelina, so I figured the new
mask would be an upgrade, though its baldness would require the
addition of a wig. While at the souvenir shop to purchase a headband
to hide the hairline, I also picked up some eye-black stickers featuring
Longhorn logos.
After loading the candy-filled balls into a mesh laundry bag, on Thursday
evening I slipped into my building's unisex bathroom, locked the door,
and began to don my costume. After fulfilling my lone depilation obligation
(I shaved my hands), I gaffed before wriggling into my FemSkin girdle. I
then bloused my pants, secured my breast forms with a sports bra, and put
on the undershirt and jersey. The mask completed the transformation,
though my male features distorted lovely Angelina/Cat into something
rather less appealing (see photo below).
Since all the night shift personnel had turned over since the previous
ambush, the attack was a successful surprise. Amidst a constant murmur
of "Who is that?", I silently and gently lobbed the treats to the bewildered
staff, except for one oblivious guy, whom I pegged in the back with a
long-distance toss. Following the strike, I took my leave and set out on foot
for my next destination, where I suspected I might find some Cat fanciers.
You see, my office is within walking distance of a favorite gathering spot
of UT fans: the Frank C. Erwin, Jr. Special Events Center. On Halloween
night, it was hosting a Texas women's basketball exhibition game, with
free admission. I tipped the usher a candyball on the way in, then made
my way to the seating area. I walked amongst the aisles, handing out
treats, until a group of tween girls spotted me and called me over with
cries of "Miss! Miss!". I lavished them with SweeTarts and got one of
them to take my picture after I unclipped my smartphone from my glove
(see photo below).
After failing to attract the attention of the TV cameras (come on Longhorn
Network, is a blowout exhibition game really more interesting than a
burnt orange-clad Joanie Appleseed?), I left the Erwin Center and
headed for Austin's prime Halloween gathering spot: Sixth Street!
During the ten-block walk downtown, I encountered a few revelers,
who generally found me creepy. Spying my reflection in a storefront
window, I was reminded of the Baseball Furies gang from The Warriors.
Not helping matters was the fact that the Velcro securing the back of the
mask had come unglued, resulting in unsightly forehead bumps. I was fine
with presenting as scary instead of pretty, though: it was Halloween!
Upon reaching the Sixth Street throng, I took a selfie (see photo below)
and trekked back and forth along the promenade a few times, checking
out all the costumes. A couple of folks asked to get their picture taken
with me, and I naturally obliged. Eventually I sashayed west of Congress
Avenue (to the extent one can sashay in cleats) over to the gay bar district.
As I walked by some drag queens waiting to get into a club, one patron
said to me, "I can't tell if you are a guy or a girl." With my smile hidden
under the mask, I gave him a Wiffle ball.
After exhausting my supply of treats, I set up my phone on a windowsill and
took another photo (see below) before making the journey to the State
Capitol. I took one final picture (below) while mimicking the left-arm-raised
pose of The Goddess Of Liberty, who's barely visible atop the dome. I
gritted out the slog back to my car, took off the sweat-filled mask, and
picked up some fast food on the way home (the drive-thru guy either
didn't notice I was female from the neck down or didn't care to bring it up).
Once I was home, enjoying the relief of stripping down and untucking, I
recalled my childhood go-to Halloween costume: a Spider-Man outfit,
which always led me to ponder whether I was trick-or-treating as
Spider-Man or as Peter Parker. In this latest undercover endeavor,
I wonder if Sandy let the Cat out of the bag?