My wife will be returning home tomorrow from a week with her sister. My femme self will go back in the closet along with all her clothes, etc. The week has been decent from the CD point of view. It was topped off today by a trip to a nearby university which carries all the Metropolitan Opera live simulcast video presentations. Today was Turandot, and it was a great excuse to dress up and see a wonderful show.
I started to get ready about 10 AM. There were some hurdles. I wore black shoes, black tights, a below-the-knee skirt black with dark pink 1 in blocking, a lovely lacey bra, forms, my new hip/butt enhancers, a rose pink long sleeve top, dangly silver earrings with a pale blue stone, rose/dark pink nails, silver necklace and bracelet, gray wig and dark pink/red lipstick. Topped off by a smallish black leather purse and a black quilted jacket against the chill fall air.
The first problem was my across the street neighbor. She's a lovely elderly lady who keeps tabs on everything/everybody in the neighborhood. She had been raking her front yard, but by the time I was ready to depart, she had disappeared from sight. I sat down to read for a few minutes, then looked her way again. Her car was gone meaning she was also. That meant I could depart without worrying she would pop out of her house and want to chat. It also meant that I could go into town and look for a parking place. Not so easy today because it was a major event weekend at the university with many extra cars around. Eventually I found one, parked, did a final makeup check and fix in the car mirror, then departed for the university.
I had time to kill and decided to go to the new art museum on campus. It was my first visit and it is a terrific place. Then, on to the opera. Not too crowded, but there was some necessary close face exposure to ticket takers and other staff. The entire opera production was about 4 hr. All that time and no need for the ladies room. When it ended I noticed something on the floor near my seat. Someone who had been sitting 2 seats away had dropped her purse and apparently dumped a pile of credit cards on the floor. She'd picked up all but one, but then departed at an intermission and did not reappear.
I'm a good citizen, but also try to avoid face-to-face communication while fully dressed. What to do? Well, I decided to do the right thing and turned the card in, face to face, to the ticket booth folks, assuming the woman who spilled her purse will return to ask about lost and found objects. Now, my face was a foot away from the seated young lady to whom I gave the card. I did not die of embarrassment, nor did she scream in horror. When all was said and done, the interaction was quick and complete, and she thanked me for turning in the card. I have no idea whether she thought I was a helpful 70 yr old woman or a man in a skirt. I did it, my pulse wasn't racing and I am happy. Tomorrow is another day.
Good night.
Mary