And Then It Happened

Those who read my columns/blogs will have recognized that for the last few months I have been despondent and pessimistic about my transgender feelings.

I didn’t seem to be getting around much anymore and I didn’t seem to care. For the first time in my life, I find myself thinking about putting together an exit strategy from my ‘hobby’. Sure, in my younger days like many others, I went through sessions of purging but those turned out to be fleeting and temporary.

I still can’t bring myself to go through that exit but at least I’m thinking about it. . . or I was thinking about it.

Then I heard from Mary. My friend Mary is an old-school crossdresser. She walks the walk. She talks the talk. She takes the term ‘passing’ seriously. You can tell by her name that Mary is an old-timer. T-gals newly coming out have names like Britney or Lexi or Miley. Us old-timers? Our names are rooted in tradition, not gleaned from the latest pop star.

The Covid years have been tough on Mary. She is not alone. In some way or another Covid has taken a toll on many of us. Mary ‘followed the science’, stayed away from crowds, wore masks when she had to be around others. She told me she stayed away from restaurants and nightclubs and hardly ever had sex with anyone. Even on those few occasions where she strayed, Mary said “I knew I was taking a gamble and I was careful at both ends of my body.” Hey, that sounds a lot like me.

Mary said that when the Covid vaccines came along she was among the first in line to get her shots and then boosters and more boosters. “I don’t think Covid is going away anytime soon, if ever,” said Mary, “At least after several years of panic we have access to medicines that give us a fighting chance. I’m not quite there yet to be walking through a Walmart without wearing a mask but I’m ready for some level of social reintegration.”

‘Social reintegration’? I knew what that meant for Mary. She was ready to get back to partying with her friends and admirers.

I have been tested and tested myself for Covid perhaps a dozen times in the last nearly three years. All tests came back negative. I have been double vaccinated and double boosted. I am presuming that, just like the flu shot and the shingles shot, the Covid shot will be a regular part of my life’s routine.

I have not yet come close to feeling sick. So why have the Covid years been tough on me?

Well yes, compared to lying in a morgue or hooked up to a ventilator, I’m very lucky. I have had two occasions when, after crossing the Canada/U.S. border I had to self-isolate for two weeks but that was no big deal. I got a lot of work done.

Mary explained it this way: “It is the lack of social occasions over the last 2 1/2 years that have been getting us down.” She had a point there. I had loved going to an adult lifestyle club up in Toronto, Canada. They have these great ‘Tranny Tuesdays’ and reasonably passable (and hot) T-gals were welcome to most of their other events, too. Saturday evenings were open only to couples and genetic females. No problem: I had somewhere else to go on Saturdays.

That club has been re-opened and apparently going great for the last several months. But to this date I haven’t felt up to going. I just hadn’t felt comfortable with the thought of some strange guy sticking his tongue or anything else in my mouth. I know the odds are something like 1 in 10,000 but the one with me just might be the one carrying the Covid or some other virus. We have been told for years that a few moments of pleasure are not worth the lifetime of sorrow but until now I have often been willing to take that risk. Not so now. Since Covid, I have been foregoing the pleasurable moments in return for living in safe isolation. Same with Mary and she explained how it was all having us feel ‘down’.

What a month this has turned out to be! I had a road trip in the works. I’m a retired person but occasionally some organization will get the idea to bring my male self in as a guest speaker or panelist. It often used to mean a day or two schmoozing at this or that seminar or convention then another day or two enjoying life ‘on the wild side’.

Then it all dried up. Businesses and associations switched from seminars to webinars. My work travel was from the bedroom to the home office.

I think you will know that dressing up to parade in front of one’s wife has none of the thrill of dressing and heading to Jacques, Ziegfield’s, Club Quest, Club Q (our condolences to those involved in that tragedy) or any of the other remaining T-friendly clubs in America. It doesn’t even come close to a day out at the mall, a power center or factory outlet complex, trying on dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes and accessories until one’s feet can take it no more.

A webinar or Skype meeting does not approach the thrill of sitting at a hotel bar when some stranger gets up the nerve to make an approach and lo and behold after a bit of conversation, he admits to having read you and he would really like to spend the evening with you. Being ‘read’ is not the end of the world. There are some genetic males who can totally pass as females but most of us who get by ‘en femme’ will have a few traits that have people doing double-takes, even if they keep their curiosity to themselves. For me, my near six-foot height, largish hands and broader than average shoulders (my stature, as one friend called it) would have people looking. Talk with me and my voice will probably confirm any suspicions. Did I ever tell you about the time I was staying at a hotel that at the time was the host hotel for a women’s college basketball tournament? I really felt at home there!

I used to shy away expecting the worst when someone would approach me. No more; I now hope for the best. As Mary explained I kept getting these little shots of adrenaline or an endorphin rush as I expected the unexpected. She said she would get it, too.

But back to this month. I was due to make an in-person presentation. It involved flying in, spending some time at a booth, doing a presentation and getting out of town, fee in hand. I guess my loving partner had picked up on some of my restless vibes. “Why don’t you take ‘Linda’ along?” she suggested one evening. “I trust you to be careful and you can go with a supply of fresh masks.”

The thought intrigued me. “But I’m just planning to travel with a carry-on. I don’t want any checked baggage.”

“Don’t they have any Goodwill stores in that area?” she asked more as a suggestion than a question. We shop the Goodwill in our area several times a year. We are looking for everything from golf clothes to quality kitchenware. My large flat screen computer monitor is from Goodwill. “I know that when we are there you are always checking out the women’s clothing and jewelry,” she added.

And so an idea was born. I packed just the essentials for a T-girl’s night out , breast forms and a bra, a minimum of makeup, a pair of casual shoes, earrings and some other assorted jewelry. And of course, a fresh razor blade.

It seems the baggage warranted some additional airport inspection. Some things looked a bit unusual to the screener. “Are these for your wife?” an inspector said while pointing to one of my breast forms.

“No, they are mine,” I casually replied. He packed up the bag and passed me through. Honesty is a good policy.

So, there I was in a strange city. I had splurged on a rental car and brought along my Garmin. I wasn’t due at the conference/trade show until the next day. What would you guess I did?

Right! I plugged in my Garmin, keyed in Goodwill and watched the suggestions populate the screen. Did I head for the closest one? Nope, that was in a ‘seedy’ part of town. I headed for one shown to be in a nicer part of town. It was the type of store where the rich folk would drop off their stuff.

BINGO! One skirt, two blouses, a necklace and a pair of designer slacks later, all the clothes at $4.95 each I was out the door and headed to the hotel.

Keep in mind that I hadn’t fully dressed and done my makeup for quite some time. It proved to be like riding a bike. The skill came back quickly and naturally. I was soon ready to go out.

But wait! It was cold outside and predicted to get colder. No one would be without coats and I hadn’t thought to buy a women’s coat or jacket. No matter, my windbreaker over a blouse and the slacks would make do for a short trip back to Goodwill. There, I found a nice (and clean) light caramel colored 3/4 length women’s coat, warm and roomy. $9.95 for something looking virtually new. Can I ever spot a bargain! Sometimes anyway.

Ruby Tuesday for a quick bite to eat then off to my favorite department store. JC Penney? Macy’s? Dillard’s? Nope, nope, nope. You are going in the wrong direction. I just love shopping at Ross: Dress for Less. You know what I discovered recently? On my Garmin navigation device the voice of choice when she goes to say ‘Arriving at Ross: Dress for Less’ it sounds to me for all the world like she’s saying “Crossdress For Less”. No wonder I like that store. I spend the better part of one afternoon and two evenings trying on outfits at the three Ross stores in town. A lot of trying and a little buying: that’s me! I found great deals on a floor-length lounge wear dress and a red and black layered cocktail dress that is to-die-for gorgeous on me, if I do say so myself.

Now, about now, some of you are probably saying ‘What’s the point?’ or ‘Where’s the dramatic twist?’ ‘When is Linda going to sneak some sex into the story?’

Well, the point is that there was no sex and no drama. That is no drama unless you consider that a T-girl who a month ago was considering giving up the lifestyle makes a remarkable comeback without a need for excitement or sexual pleasure. To paraphrase the old song, “I enjoyed being a girl”. And I hope to enjoy it again and again for a long time to come. I particularly can’t wait to enjoy it while wearing that layered cocktail dress. Would anyone like a date for their Christmas party?

Like to make a comment? Login here and use the comment area below.

Tags: crossdressing, featured

Category: crossdressing