Greer's Ramblings

The Primrose, April 2010

You will recall from last month that our heroine (that would be moi) was left alone for a weekend late in February with cash, credit cards, and no significant chores to be done. We join Greer on Friday as she slips out of work (a bit early) and slips into something much more comfortable. Let the games begin!

As a loyal and faithful reader of The Primrose, I am certain that you will have noticed a certain inclination on my part to push our friend Sarah out of the nest and into the big world. Fly Sarah, fly! This of course is done with only the most pure and honest intentions. I want to help her to be the woman she was meant to be. I certainly take no pleasure in her discomfort or those looks that still say “what am I doing!” Hmm. You’re right. What a crock. I love it! Fortunately, I know she does too! Ha ha ha!!! (she laughed with a maniacal cackle). Sorry, back to business.

My Friday evening festivities were to be shared with the aforementioned Sarah, as well as two other ladies who are both officers of CGS, as well as being fun, stylish, and very special to me, Jackie and Christine. And what better way to start the weekend than with a manicure. So, we all met at ASHA spa/salon at the Streets of Woodfield. Sarah and I arrived together so I was able to appreciate the fun of strolling past the Legoland Discovery Center. Sarah declined my suggestion that we go in and browse, saying that we would be late for our appointments. Maybe next time.
None of us had been in this salon before, and I am happy to report that we were treated wonderfully from the moment we arrived. The spa/salon itself is on the second floor, and we were directed up a flight of stairs from the ground floor shop area (there is also an elevator if needed). We were checked in with warm smiles and gracious hospitality. Our coats were taken, we were offered drinks, and warm neck pillows were brought to us. We were in heaven and we were still in the waiting area! I noted a pleasant smile or two from the other ladies who were waiting, but mostly everyone was quietly relaxing.

After a few minutes, Sarah and I were ushered into the spa manicure area. Christine arrived shortly after that. Jackie had decided that her nails were already beautiful, and she would join us a bit later. Our first critical moment arrived, deciding on nail colors. Argh! Hundreds of colors on a wall. How to choose? I admit freely that I choked and asked my manicurist to help me decide. Her pick was a dark chocolate color that I never would have picked on my own, but that looked very modern. The next day I discovered that when I held my manicured hands underwater in the spa, the color would flash red. Very cool! But I am getting ahead of myself.

Before the manicures really got started, I messed up the seating arrangements by asking to have one nail extension added to make up for a nail I had broken earlier that day (curses!). Naturally the only manicurist who could glue on an extension was just getting started on Sarah, but the switch was made and the manicures moved into high gear.

As we were finishing up at the spa/salon, Jackie arrived to complete our little group for the evening. We got into my car and headed to The Melting Pot (Golf Road in Schaumburg) where we had reservations for a fondue dinner.

Upon entering the restaurant, we were warmly greeted by a delightfully friendly and fun hostess who we later learned was named Nina. I should also mention that Nina is petite and adorable and uber supportive (because of the latter, I shall forgive her the former).

In making our reservation, I had requested a booth since these looked quite cozy on their web site. We were told that there was indeed a booth available for us, but that is was next to a large group that included a number of 13-year-old girls. Looking around the restaurant, I could see that the booths were angled in such a way that being near this group should not be a problem so we followed her to the offered location. It turned out that the booth was not in the rather open and expansive area that I saw from the front and on the website. Instead, it was in an adjoining room that was more traditionally laid out and more confined. Before we even ordered drinks, it was apparent that the noise from the group next to us (13 year-old-girls can be loud!) was going to make it difficult for us to chat.

Nina was most understanding, and we were quickly moved to a table in front of the fireplace in the main room of the restaurant. I should also mention that this table would probably be much in demand by the “A List” types who want to be noticed. Definitely not the table for anyone who wants to be unobtrusive and unnoticed. Yet another “OMG” moment for Sarah. Nevertheless, it was comfortable and permitted conversation, and it came with a wonderful waiter named Nick.

To understand how special Nick was, you need to have a little understanding of the menu at The Melting Pot. It contains many variations, but the “standard” dinner consists of an appetizer cheese fondue, a salad, a main course fondue, and a dessert fondue. The variations are almost endless when you consider the different cheese combinations for the appetizer, the various salads, the different oils to be used for cooking your main course, which is in turn selected from a wide range of meats, fish and vegetables. Finally, there are several choices for the dessert which all sound decadent and delightful. Just to add to the complexity, you are also free to order individual courses rather than working with the options of the 4-course meal.

Nick carefully walked us through the menu options (several times) and was extremely patient as we slowly managed to figure out what we wanted. By the way, did I mention that he was also a very handsome young man? Unfortunately, he ended up taking pictures of our group, but I never managed to get him in one of the photos. Darn. We ended up spending almost 3 hours lingering over the dinner. Nick and Nina both spent time with us, and that helped to make the experience very special.

Before we move on, I will note that everything at The Melting Pot was excellent, but it is not cheap. Our bill averaged a bit over $50 per person. That puts it into the special occasion category for me. However, they also have a small bar at the front, and Nina tells me that they would love to have us drop in and have drinks whenever we are in the neighborhood. Nina generally works Thursday, Friday and Saturday night, and we just might see her visiting some of our events in the future.

To close out our evening, Christine, Sarah and I went to the Hyatt for a nightcap. (I guess Jackie had a better offer elsewhere ;-) The place was pretty busy, and this led to a bit of a lesson for Sarah and me. Before heading to the bar, all three of us stopped at the ladies room near the elevators. One of the two stalls was occupied and Christine utilized the other. Sarah and I were in mid-conversation (about something very weighty I am sure), and neither of us were making any attempt to keep our voices in femme mode. We quickly heard a voice from the first stall say, “am I in the wrong restroom?” I assured her that she was not, and then we beat a retreat to the lobby to wait for Christine. I felt stupid and insensitive. Lesson learned.

For my big Saturday night excursion, I had been working on gathering a group to hit a hot spot or two or three. If I had consulted the calendar more thoroughly, I would have realized that it was the night of the Tri-Ess meeting including their “Queen of Hearts” pageant, and that many of the girls would be unavailable as a result. Anyway, the plan was to meet at the Hideaway, and then later decide whether to move to another venue. As of Saturday my only confirmed companion was my friend Terri. Two other friends, Jackie M and Laura, were going to try to meet us after the Tri-Ess meeting, and Dee from Quincy was going to be in town and would also try to meet us.

My only previous visit to the Hideaway had been on a weeknight, so I had no idea what the place would be like on a Saturday. I picked Terry up from her home and we ended up meeting Dee outside. As it was only about 7:30, the downstairs bar was not real busy, and the upstairs was not yet open. We settled in at a little table and enjoyed the ability to chat without yelling over loud music.

We soon met Steve. He works at the bar and does some drag performances, although that night he was not performing. He invited us to enjoy the food that had been laid out in the pool table area. Steve was very nice and personable, and I was sorry that he was just heading home. We tried some of the food and found it to be very good. The caterer dropped by our table later to introduce herself, and I am chagrined to find that I have lost her card and her name entirely escapes me. Anyway, we had a nice chat with her before she too had to depart herself. It seems it was her anniversary and she thought she should spend some of the evening with her husband. Go figure.

At about 10:00 we relocated to the upstairs bar. In this area the atmosphere was quite different. The music was louder, so casual conversation required more volume and hand gestures. There was a small, but quite usable, dance floor, and a postage stamp sized stage for the entertainers. The bar itself was more trendy than the neighborhood style featured downstairs. We took a table next to the stairs so that we could observe the comings and goings. By 11:00, the upstairs was crowded with a wide range of people having a good time. Male dancers in scanty attire were working the small stage and the dance floor was heating up. Fun times.

I had made arrangements to do lunch and shopping with Sarah on Sunday. To this end, we arranged to meet at Panera around 10:00. The reader may recall that Sarah had avoided actually entering Panera in the past, so I arrived early and went in to prevent any such avoidance this time. I ordered tea for myself and thereby started the first of two minor incidents that would put a small dark cloud over my day and cause me to think again about my femme presentation.

Since it was a Sunday morning and we would be shopping in the Woodfield area, I decided to wear pants for the occasion. I know! My outfit was age appropriate and somewhat sophisticated (Publisher Katie would have been proud). Nevertheless, I thought I looked good and appropriately femme.

After receiving my tea cup, I had to ask for some of the hot water to be poured off so I could add cold water (I am something of a wimp when it comes to hot drinks). The smiling young man was very nice and did as I requested. It was then that he said (are you ready for it?), “Is that OK sir?” Argggh! With no prompting (other than the crestfallen look on my face), he quickly added, “I mean ma’am”. I think I managed a smile and a non-sarcastic “thank-you”, but the damage was done.

When Sarah arrived, she was understanding and supportive, and we went about our shopping, including visits to Nordstrom Rack and into the hallowed halls of Woodfield Mall itself. When lunchtime arrived, we decided to try Ted’s Montana Grill. As I am already over my allotted space, I will not describe our journey to the restaurant. Suffice it to say that our destination was only about 1 block away, but our route was about 15 miles. Remember, when using a GPS device, always perform a reality check.

After our invigorating drive to Palatine and back, we found the restaurant to be quiet and sparsely occupied. We were immediately seated in one of their booths that are very nice for chatting. When our server introduced himself in a businesslike, but not particularly friendly way, I noticed that he did not have the smile in his eyes that tells me that light-hearted banter is likely to ensue. And then it came time to take my order. “What would you like sir?” Egad! Twice in one day? Really? The reality of what came next may never be known for sure. In my head, I saw myself slap the little creep, but what I recall coming out of my mouth was “please don’t call me sir.” Sarah remembers me saying “you may call me ma’am”. Whatever. Damage done.

Looking back on that day, I was a bit surprised at how unhappy those two “sir” incidents made me. Anyone who cares to listen has probably heard me say that when I am out and about, I do not expect to pass. I realized that what I really look for is acceptance. On Friday, Nina and Nick at The Melting Pot knew that I was trans, but they accepted my presentation and treated me accordingly. The servers on Sunday might have just had a slip of the tongue. Heck, I have done it myself. Or, for any number of reasons, they might have rejected my presentation. Whatever the reason, it did make me sad, not because I failed to pass, but because I was not accepted as I was presenting. And really, that is going to happen isn’t it?

So it is time to revise my expectations a bit. I will still not expect to pass, but I will strive to not be disappointed if I am not happily accepted by everyone I encounter in the real world. And most importantly, I will cherish those very special people who do more than just accept, those who support and encourage and rejoice in all the things that make us who we are.

*****
Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Please send to me at greercd@hotmail.com.