I want to tell you all about a great evening I had recently. But before I can do that, I have to introduce you to my friend Sarah. Now some of you met Sarah at the January CGS meeting. You might recall her English accent (yup, not Australian, not Irish, and not South African) and her oh so English habit of ordering Gin and Tonic with a lemon rather than lime. That was her first CGS meeting, and her first time out in public as Sarah. We all remember that thrilling terror that went with the first steps out of the closet and out the door, and one of these days, Sarah will write and tell us how she felt that first night out, but my story is about her second night out.
Following the CGS meeting, Sarah and I had corresponded about going out early in February. I suggested that we check out the Velvet Rope or the Hideaway. Sarah was anxious to spread her wings, but falling naturally into her new role, she bemoaned her lack of anything to wear. Well it happened that my plans for a Thursday evening fell apart the day before. I asked Sarah if she would be free, and if she would like to take the opportunity to do a little shopping the next evening. She was indeed interested and available, so our plans were made.
Now dear reader, you must try to understand what occurred in my mind and hers. I certainly had no intention of the two of us going forth in drab to pretend to be buying things for our delightfully feminine significant others. Heaven forbid! Of course our Sarah had never considered any other way at this very early stage of her introduction to life in the trans lane. The poor thing. She slept peacefully that Wednesday night, never guessing what it might mean that Greer had entered her life.
On Thursday, I contacted Sarah to coordinate what we were going to wear. The weather was dicey enough that I even considered the option of wearing pants (the spells come over me now and then, but I usual snap out of them in time). Sarah somewhat weakly granted that I was welcome to dress, but that she planned to go in boy-mode. “What?!?!”, said I. “How can you possibly do that? Ridiculous! Silly girl!” That is not what I really said of course, but I did strongly suggest that she should take advantage of the opportunity. She somewhat grimly agreed to try, and we agreed on long skirts. As it happened, she did not have any femme pants, and I certainly was not going to wear pants while she was in a skirt.
We met in a Panera parking lot. True to her word, Sarah was wearing a nice long skirt and heels. She looked good, but definitely nervous. As she got settled into my car, she kept saying, “I can’t believe I’m doing this!” When I inquired if she had any preference about where to go shopping, her only suggestion was someplace where the lights are dim and there are few people. I told her that there is no such place for shopping, so we would start at my favorite place for affordable clothes, Target!
Throughout the short drive that followed, she kept interspersing her comments about not believing she was doing this with whispered hopes that no one would be there and that maybe the store would be closed. No such luck of course. The store was open, the lights were all on, and the parking lot had lots and lots of cars. I ignored Sarah’s last ditch attempt to avoid the inevitable when she offered to wait in the car. With a final “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, she got out of the car and joined me for the long walk to the front door.
I suspect that Sarah was half expecting to be immediately arrested upon entering the store, charged with being a deviant English person (is that redundant?). When no such thing happened, she relaxed a little. We first looked at purses, but quickly decided to move into the clothing area. There I introduced her to the clearance racks. Yes, the wonderful clearance racks. Toward the front, 30% off, then moving deeper into the land of feminine fashion, 40% and 50% off. Then deep in the heart of no-man’s land, the 75% off racks. Ah, so sweet!
Poor Sarah was being a bit shy about taking things off the rack, so I found her a skirt that looked short enough to be interesting (is anyone surprised that is what I picked up first?), and then I told her we needed to find a top that she could try on with it. “Oh no,” she said. “I am not going to try these on here!” Silly thing. She still did not understand.
We wandered through the department, rather like bees going from flower to flower in search of sweet nectar. Actually not like that at all, but we did wander all around. Sarah found some tops she thought might be nice, and I picked up a couple of skirts to try (same style, one in 14 and one in 16, I have gained weight). Sarah was still saying she would just buy the things and try them at home. “Oh pshaw”, I exclaimed, and marched toward the fitting rooms. Sarah tried to hold back, but I waved her on.
As an aside, for those of you that are not familiar with Target, they normally station an employee (sales clerk? associate? team member?) at a desk at the entrance to the fitting rooms. Customers are issued a plastic tag with a number indicating how many items they are taking into the fitting room with them. As luck would have it, just before we moved into the area, the employee went back into the fitting room area to help another customer. Sarah seized the opportunity and grabbed a tag with a “4” on it that someone had left on the counter. As this happened to be the number of items she had, she took her purloined tag and entered the nearest open fitting room. Being a stickler for the rules, I waited for the return of the employee to get my “2” tag before entering another fitting room.
While I was pleased that the size 14 skirt fit, I was not taken with the look so I surrendered my items when I emerged from the fitting room. Happily, Sarah was pleased with all of her choices, including the skirt that I picked for her. We spent few minutes checking out shoes, but nothing looked good. So we were off to the checkout area. About this time, it occurred to Sarah that Target probably was not going to give her the clothes just for the having the courage to come in and try them. She asked if they had a self-check aisle, but no such luck. Then she pondered using cash rather than using a credit card with her “other” name. She ultimately used the card, and the checker thanked us without ever really looking at us.
Our next stop was Ulta. It was getting late, so the assistance we received was somewhat half-hearted, but Sarah managed to end up with a basket full of essential make-up items. At the cash register I forced the cashier to engage us a little by commenting on the photo of the blonde with the blue eyes. Have you seen that picture? Her eyes are amazing!
We then made a quick trip into PayLess Shoes. As we entered, the clerk informed us that their “buy one, get one half off sale” was going on, and that the store would be closing in 5 minutes. We failed to find anything of interest so we left after a few minutes.
By that time, Sarah had stopped muttering “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, and she was fairly relaxed. Of course that all returned when I suggested that we stop somewhere for a drink. The muttering got louder as I marched her into the lobby of the Hyatt and onto a stool at the bar. By the way, for those who haven’t been back since the 2008 Be-All, they have moved the bar from the center of the lobby over to the front of the restaurant, where the coffee bar used to be.
We sat at the bar for an hour or so and had a wonderful chat. The bartenders were very nice, and the 7 or 8 other patrons (all guys) pretty much ignored us (too bad). Much too soon, the fact of early rising the next morning forced us to bring our evening to a close.
I know that the whole experience was special for Sarah, but I am the one who was truly enriched. I have been blessed by the help and kindness and friendship that has been given to me over the last few years by many members of the trans community. These great people have helped me to become comfortable with myself and my place in the world. Now it is a truly wonderful feeling to be able to (try to) fill the role of big sister, and help a new friend spread her wings. It is a joy and an honor. Thank you Sarah.
*****
Back in June, my family and I took in a hilarious production called “Poseidon! An Upside Down Musical” that was staged by Hell in a Handbag Productions. Having thoroughly enjoyed that one, we went to see their production of “Rudolph the Red Hosed Reindeer” in December. We laughed ourselves silly. Next time I think I will see about getting together a theater party. Anyone interested? Check out the website at http://www.handbagproductions.org/.
*****Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Please send to me at greercd@hotmail.com.
Following the CGS meeting, Sarah and I had corresponded about going out early in February. I suggested that we check out the Velvet Rope or the Hideaway. Sarah was anxious to spread her wings, but falling naturally into her new role, she bemoaned her lack of anything to wear. Well it happened that my plans for a Thursday evening fell apart the day before. I asked Sarah if she would be free, and if she would like to take the opportunity to do a little shopping the next evening. She was indeed interested and available, so our plans were made.
Now dear reader, you must try to understand what occurred in my mind and hers. I certainly had no intention of the two of us going forth in drab to pretend to be buying things for our delightfully feminine significant others. Heaven forbid! Of course our Sarah had never considered any other way at this very early stage of her introduction to life in the trans lane. The poor thing. She slept peacefully that Wednesday night, never guessing what it might mean that Greer had entered her life.
On Thursday, I contacted Sarah to coordinate what we were going to wear. The weather was dicey enough that I even considered the option of wearing pants (the spells come over me now and then, but I usual snap out of them in time). Sarah somewhat weakly granted that I was welcome to dress, but that she planned to go in boy-mode. “What?!?!”, said I. “How can you possibly do that? Ridiculous! Silly girl!” That is not what I really said of course, but I did strongly suggest that she should take advantage of the opportunity. She somewhat grimly agreed to try, and we agreed on long skirts. As it happened, she did not have any femme pants, and I certainly was not going to wear pants while she was in a skirt.
We met in a Panera parking lot. True to her word, Sarah was wearing a nice long skirt and heels. She looked good, but definitely nervous. As she got settled into my car, she kept saying, “I can’t believe I’m doing this!” When I inquired if she had any preference about where to go shopping, her only suggestion was someplace where the lights are dim and there are few people. I told her that there is no such place for shopping, so we would start at my favorite place for affordable clothes, Target!
Throughout the short drive that followed, she kept interspersing her comments about not believing she was doing this with whispered hopes that no one would be there and that maybe the store would be closed. No such luck of course. The store was open, the lights were all on, and the parking lot had lots and lots of cars. I ignored Sarah’s last ditch attempt to avoid the inevitable when she offered to wait in the car. With a final “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, she got out of the car and joined me for the long walk to the front door.
I suspect that Sarah was half expecting to be immediately arrested upon entering the store, charged with being a deviant English person (is that redundant?). When no such thing happened, she relaxed a little. We first looked at purses, but quickly decided to move into the clothing area. There I introduced her to the clearance racks. Yes, the wonderful clearance racks. Toward the front, 30% off, then moving deeper into the land of feminine fashion, 40% and 50% off. Then deep in the heart of no-man’s land, the 75% off racks. Ah, so sweet!
Poor Sarah was being a bit shy about taking things off the rack, so I found her a skirt that looked short enough to be interesting (is anyone surprised that is what I picked up first?), and then I told her we needed to find a top that she could try on with it. “Oh no,” she said. “I am not going to try these on here!” Silly thing. She still did not understand.
We wandered through the department, rather like bees going from flower to flower in search of sweet nectar. Actually not like that at all, but we did wander all around. Sarah found some tops she thought might be nice, and I picked up a couple of skirts to try (same style, one in 14 and one in 16, I have gained weight). Sarah was still saying she would just buy the things and try them at home. “Oh pshaw”, I exclaimed, and marched toward the fitting rooms. Sarah tried to hold back, but I waved her on.
As an aside, for those of you that are not familiar with Target, they normally station an employee (sales clerk? associate? team member?) at a desk at the entrance to the fitting rooms. Customers are issued a plastic tag with a number indicating how many items they are taking into the fitting room with them. As luck would have it, just before we moved into the area, the employee went back into the fitting room area to help another customer. Sarah seized the opportunity and grabbed a tag with a “4” on it that someone had left on the counter. As this happened to be the number of items she had, she took her purloined tag and entered the nearest open fitting room. Being a stickler for the rules, I waited for the return of the employee to get my “2” tag before entering another fitting room.
While I was pleased that the size 14 skirt fit, I was not taken with the look so I surrendered my items when I emerged from the fitting room. Happily, Sarah was pleased with all of her choices, including the skirt that I picked for her. We spent few minutes checking out shoes, but nothing looked good. So we were off to the checkout area. About this time, it occurred to Sarah that Target probably was not going to give her the clothes just for the having the courage to come in and try them. She asked if they had a self-check aisle, but no such luck. Then she pondered using cash rather than using a credit card with her “other” name. She ultimately used the card, and the checker thanked us without ever really looking at us.
Our next stop was Ulta. It was getting late, so the assistance we received was somewhat half-hearted, but Sarah managed to end up with a basket full of essential make-up items. At the cash register I forced the cashier to engage us a little by commenting on the photo of the blonde with the blue eyes. Have you seen that picture? Her eyes are amazing!
We then made a quick trip into PayLess Shoes. As we entered, the clerk informed us that their “buy one, get one half off sale” was going on, and that the store would be closing in 5 minutes. We failed to find anything of interest so we left after a few minutes.
By that time, Sarah had stopped muttering “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, and she was fairly relaxed. Of course that all returned when I suggested that we stop somewhere for a drink. The muttering got louder as I marched her into the lobby of the Hyatt and onto a stool at the bar. By the way, for those who haven’t been back since the 2008 Be-All, they have moved the bar from the center of the lobby over to the front of the restaurant, where the coffee bar used to be.
We sat at the bar for an hour or so and had a wonderful chat. The bartenders were very nice, and the 7 or 8 other patrons (all guys) pretty much ignored us (too bad). Much too soon, the fact of early rising the next morning forced us to bring our evening to a close.
I know that the whole experience was special for Sarah, but I am the one who was truly enriched. I have been blessed by the help and kindness and friendship that has been given to me over the last few years by many members of the trans community. These great people have helped me to become comfortable with myself and my place in the world. Now it is a truly wonderful feeling to be able to (try to) fill the role of big sister, and help a new friend spread her wings. It is a joy and an honor. Thank you Sarah.
*****
Back in June, my family and I took in a hilarious production called “Poseidon! An Upside Down Musical” that was staged by Hell in a Handbag Productions. Having thoroughly enjoyed that one, we went to see their production of “Rudolph the Red Hosed Reindeer” in December. We laughed ourselves silly. Next time I think I will see about getting together a theater party. Anyone interested? Check out the website at http://www.handbagproductions.org/.
*****Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Please send to me at greercd@hotmail.com.
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