Will That Be the Last Time I See Marie?

“This may be the last time you see Marie.” The words hit me like a rock.

Marie and I had just met up for the first time in about a year. We both live fairly closeted second lives. Our first lives are as older gentlemen both married, semi-retired (at least I am), grown children and young grandchildren. Our wives but no one else knows of our second lives. My second life is as Linda, hers as Marie. We also don’t know much about each other’s ‘first life’.

We met for the first time at a TG club meeting in western Canada and we had hit it off immediately. We had similar taste in dresses and makeup. We were both comfortable going out shopping en femme and to public restaurants which we did the next day and almost every time we met thereafter.  We also enjoyed the pleasure of each other’s intimate company (if you know what I mean) which we also did almost every time we met thereafter.

So when Marie emailed to say that she was going to be in Ottawa, Canada, only about an hour or so from my home I agreed that we should meet.

Marie was going to be staying at the Hilton which in Ottawa is attached to a large and popular casino, complete with frequent entertainment, lots of gaming tables, bars and restaurants one of which encourages fine dressing for their guests. Great, I thought, I’ll be able to wear my new Ivanka Trump sheath dress that I picked up for $21 at a Ross, Dress for Less. I’m not a big fan of the Trump brands but I like the idea that someone who is supposed to have such a reputation for high fashion is selling off excess stuff at less than bargain basement prices. Besides the dress is a lovely royal blue and fits me very well.

It was arranged that I would drive to Ottawa already dressed for the evening but with an extra suitcase for the next day in case I decided to stay over. When I got to the bar I was to find a table and text Marie to come on down.

Everything went according to plan but not before I scouted the lounge to see if there were any likely gentlemen who might later like the company of two affectionate t-girls. The pickings were not bad but that would have to wait. Marie was approaching. She looked lovely and slimmer than ever. I swore she must have had injections in her hips but then I remembered how she had taken my advice and purchased those hip pads from the Breast Form Store.

“Hi Marie,” I exclaimed as I rose to greet my friend.

“Hi Linda.” She replied as we kissed on both cheeks, Quebec style. “This may be the last time you see Marie.”

If you ever want to meet a person who likes to get right to the point then you want to meet Marie. I think she must have spent years in the military, perhaps as a pilot, where she had to make quick decisions.

However while she may have been very definitive in what she was saying the possible interpretations in my mind were ambiguous. Had I done something to annoy her and she was breaking off our friendship? Was she moving to Australia or someplace far away like that? Was she terminally ill and had she arranged this meeting to tell me?

“Why? What do you mean, my friend?” I gave her hand a little squeeze as we sat down. Just as I had pre-ordered, the server brought us two glasses of chardonnay as soon as my friend arrived.

“I’ve been thinking about this for some time,” she said, “we’ve been at this crossdressing for a long time. We’ve both had some great adventures.”

“Too right about that,” I replied. This time, for some reason, Marie was not going to get right to the point.

“Do you remember the first times going out in public, what a thrill it was, how scared you were?”

“Right again. I remember going to Montreal, getting a room in a cheap motel and heading to Cleopatra’s. Those were great evenings. I met some interesting people. I had my first dance as Linda, I had TG sex and my first sex with a man all while going to Cleopatra’s. I loved the thrill.”

“I bet you also loved the feeling of danger,” chimed in Marie. “For me it was the Dufferin in Vancouver. No matter how TG-friendly the place was I was always nervous walking from my car to the club and even in the club you never knew who you would meet or how you would be received.”

“Yes, there was always an adrenalin rush, for sure.”

“I know enough about you and you know enough about me to know that each of us has constantly pushed the barriers to continue getting that adrenaline rush. When something, like shopping for women’s clothes becomes ordinary we look for a bit more and a bit more. We moved from shopping en femme, to using the fitting room and the department store ladies’ room.”

“That’s right. I remember how nervous I used to be, figuring that everyone would be reading me,” I replied, “and back in the day sometimes groups of teenagers would make an issue of my presence. It was nerve-wracking.”

“Too right,” Marie picked up, “Then the restaurants, the nights out, traveling en femme. I remember your story about flying from LA to Chicago. That was hilarious how you had to change in two restrooms for your on-going trip to Canada.”

“Hilarious but nerve-wracking, a big adrenaline rush for sure.” I smiled at the memory.

“Those were the days,” Marie said several times as we continued to share memories. I got the sense that if she was breaking off our relationship it would not be because of anything I had said or done to her. Was she ill? She did not look it except being a little thinner than I remembered.

Finally she broke the ice a bit, “Those were the days but ‘the times they are changing’.”

“What do you mean,” I asked.

“Well, look at us now,” she replied, “here in the hotel I walked through a crowd of people all heading to a banquet and no one took a second look my way. We’re in a casino with probably a thousand people. Surely we would be read by a few but no one cares.

“And what about our two favorite clubs, Cleopatra’s and the Duff?” she continued, “where are they?”

“Gone!” I answered back. “That’s a shame. I once wrote a story for TGForum talking about how five of my favorite TG-friendly clubs in America had closed in short order, the Cartwheel (New Hope, Pa.), Queen Mary (Los Angeles), Backstreet (Atlanta), Club Edelweiss (NYC), and Ziegfeld’s (DC) all gone, all for different reasons. Although I hear Ziegfeld’s may have re-opened in a different location.” 

“Yes, and remember how we each liked to go to singles dances en femme and try our luck with the men?”

“Oh yes. I remember. Do you remember that Tony and Tina’s wedding party in Vancouver? We really fit in there. It was a younger crowd with lots of girls dancing with girls while the guys got drunk. We had fun teaching those young ladies how to jive,” I laughed.

“You mean you had fun teaching them to jive.”

“I really thought we were passing 100% and my heart was racing thinking we might be exposed at any minute. I was trying so hard not to slip up my voice and to keep on my heels. But as I think back on it we were probably not passing. We just weren’t being offensive and the girls did not care whether we were GG, TS, TG, CD or whatever. They were having fun and so were we.”

I paused before throwing in one of Marie’s favorite sayings, “it was the thrill of victory and the agony of da feet!”

Marie smiled then got a serious look on her face. “That was a fun evening, for sure. It was the ultimate in transgender acceptance but rather than being an unusual evening it has proven to be the shape of things to come,” she said with a frown.

“Why? What do you mean?”

She grabbed her wine glass, took a sip and then continued, “Have you noticed how the word transgender has become mainstream? There is hardly a TV network that doesn’t feature a TG character. Love her or hate her Caitlyn Jenner has opened lot of doors. Many of our old CD friends are transitioning. Many who nobody ever suspected were TG are coming out and going for it while we are stuck in the closet.”

“Yes, it used to be social, emotional and financial disaster for someone to come out as TG. It still is for too many but more and more you see examples where the husband has come out and the partner and children keep the new lady around because they actually like her.

“You are not going to tell me you are on your way to see Dr. Menard or off to Thailand, are you? No, because then you would still be Marie, n’est-ca pas? Would you cut off ties with the TG world once you had transitioned?” My mind was racing but I thought I’d finally solved the mystery of her news.

“No, far from that,” Marie replied, “It took me a long time to figure it out but crossdressing for me has never been a stepping stone to transition to womanhood. Crossdressing has been the end in itself or at least the means to the end.”

Marie continued, “I hope this doesn’t sound disloyal to the sisterhood but I’m figuring the big attraction for me to crossdressing has not been about releasing my inner feminine personality. It has been the thrill, the sense of possible danger. I think that is why over the years when something becomes ordinary I have moved on to a greater challenge. Now everything about crossdressing seems ordinary. I cannot worry about passing or about the danger of being outed in a public place. No one seems to care how I present. I don’t have to do a good job with my dressing or makeup because even if I was a scrag others would just be so, ‘Oh there’s one of those transsexuals’ and move on.”

“That’s a word I haven’t heard in several decades, scrag.” It was my chance to jump in. “I don’t think that is very politically correct,” I laughed. “But you are right. It does feel different in public. Used to be that I would hold my bladder forever rather than go to a ladies’ room but now I’ll be right back.”

During my ‘quick trip’ I thought about what Marie was saying. I thought about how once extraordinary events for me the crossdresser had become very ordinary and I wasn’t thinking them unusual any more.

“So what you’ve told me is that for you crossdressing has never been a stepping stone to full womanhood. You have just been in to it for the thrills and the sense of danger?” I asked as I returned to the table.

“I guess that has been it,” replied Marie. “Do you remember back some years ago when I would come to Ottawa and Montreal regularly and it was always in late May?”

“Oh yes,” I cooed as I remembered the great times we had, “Toronto, too.”

“Well I never told you but I was in elected office at the time. I came east to go to an annual conference and would come a few days early to catch some quality ‘Marie time’ with you and others. It was quite an adrenaline rush to think that at any time I might be exposed or accidentally out myself.”

“I’m sure the voters back home would have been very shocked. It probably would have been the end of your political career,” I opined.

“That’s true then but now I’m not quite so sure. I think they would assume I was transgendered and political correctness would have them thinking that’s okay. Where is the thrill, the danger in that?

“And now that I’m out of office probably absolutely no one would care if they found out about me. My gender issue is not their gender issue. 

“Take an evening like tonight,” Marie continued, “five, ten or more years ago we’d be out for dinner and always I’d have a bit of an adrenaline rush being concerned about the chance of exposure. Now I don’t think anyone cares or they don’t want to reveal themselves as bigots and more importantly I don’t really care if I do get exposed. What’s the worst that can happen to me? Nothing. What’s the thrill in that?”

“You know you are right about the crossdressing for thrill seeking. Some people like sky-diving. Some people like scuba-diving. I love diving in to the clearance rack at a department store.” It was a weak simile but I desperately wanted to lighten the mood.

“Or diving down on someone like the guys at the next table,” smiled Marie, also willing to change the subject.

I looked over my shoulder at two gentlemen that were smiling back at her.

“Look, most of the thrills are gone so I’m going to give up crossdressing,” said Marie, “but there is no sense going cold-turkey. Besides this is one thrill that has not yet gone. I set up this last double date with the two guys there. I met them through Craig’s List and they are nice guys. They will take us to dinner. We’ll play a little blackjack and then go up to the suite.  Someday I’ll give up dressing. But just not tonight.”

Just like that our discussion was over. Marie nodded to the gentlemen and they came over each with two glasses in hand. ‘Three wines before dinner,’ I thought to myself, ‘this is going to be an interesting evening’ and it was.

Marie and I spent the evening with the gents and to the next morning with each other. The next morning after shaving, showering and putting on fresh outfits we went to breakfast in the Hilton’s café. We did not get a chance to talk further about Marie’s future. To this day I am 50/50 on her resolve to call it quits. What do you think she’ll do?

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Tags: closeted, crossdressing, featured, passing

Category: Transgender Fun & Entertainment, Transgender Opinion