Hello again dear reader! It is lovely to have you join me for another of my little rambles through this, that and the other. As always, there is nothing earth shaking to be found in the following paragraphs, but I hope you receive some level of enjoyment in return for your investment of time.
I fear that I have disturbed and disappointed my wonderful editors with yet another late submission for this month’s The Primrose. Alas, the last few weeks have been very busy and stressful at work, and time at home continues to revolve around the puppies that I told you about last month. The result is that I have found it very difficult to devote time to writing. But here I am now. I am sitting in front of my PC, and words are starting to come out of my fevered brain, racing down my arms to the points where my fingers are becoming part of a biological-mechanical interface with the keyboard, and the words are then magically appearing on the screen before me. As usual they are complete drivel, but ain’t it grand!
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Let me just digress from all things t-related for a moment, and give a quick puppy update for those who might be interested. The rest of you, take a quick break, and we will meet you in the next section.
You may recall that Sue and I unexpectedly welcomed 10 Irish Terrier puppies into our household on August 20, which just happened to be the deadline for last month’s column. I am sad to report that one of the little guys only made it for 3 days, but he passed quietly in his sleep. Happily, at 5 weeks of age, the other 9 are thriving little eating and pooping machines. In case you are wondering, the answer is no, we will not be keeping any of them. They are adorable, but raising puppies is definitely not what we had planned for our free time.
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In the last month, I have had exactly one (1) evening of “heel time”. Time and space permitting, we will discuss the whys and wherefores later. For now let me tell you a bit about my one evening out.
None of my faithful readers will be surprised to read that friend Sarah (aka “S”) has a prominent part in today’s tale. It happened that her birthday was coming up, and I felt that it was essential that we do something to celebrate. Now her actual birthday was to fall on a Tuesday, and on that particular Tuesday, S would be in far off Atlanta for SCC (I think that stands for “Swarms of Crossdressed Cuties”, or something like that).
Since I was not going to be in Atlanta at that time, it seemed like a reasonable idea to celebrate either before or after her trip. Pretty smart eh? So, we decided to get together the Saturday before, wear sexy dresses, go to Boystown, have drinks, have dinner, have drinks, dance a little, have drinks, flirt a little, have drinks . . . well, you get the idea. As we were making plans for when and where, S started to whine.
Now for this next part to work right, you really need to think it (or read aloud if you are so inclined) in a really whiny voice. Like a child would use when they say, “I don’t wanna take a nap, I’m not sleepy!” Go ahead, practice that one and then we will go on. By the way, have I mentioned how unfair it is that we are forced to take unwanted naps as children, but then as soon as we get old enough to appreciate the practice, we are no longer allowed to nap? Moving on . . .
So S says in her best British whiny voice, “I have to drive to Atlanta on Sunday, I don’t wanna stay up late on Saturday! Maybe we should postpone until another time, like January.” What? Postpone our birthday get together? Not a chance! In the end I overcame her objection by agreeing to travel 4,000 miles through uncharted and untamed North country to get to her remote living quarters so she wouldn’t have to stay up late driving home at the end of the evening. Ah, the sacrifices we make for our friends!
The other sacrifice I made was in my selection of outfit for the evening. My sense of propriety (twisted as it may be) tells me that Saturday night in North Muggleland is quite different than Saturday night in Boystown. Therefore, I reluctantly gave up my plans of wearing a sexy little number, and I selected something more age and place appropriate (Publisher Katie would be so proud). Of course having been both a Boy Scout and a Girl Scout, I went prepared with a sexy little skirt I could change into at a moment’s notice, just in case.
Three days before the agreed time of our meeting, I began driving north. Stopping only for fuel, and to transfer from car to dogsled, I managed to arrive safely at S’s new home. Hmm. “S’s” looks sort of goofy doesn’t it? Rather like a snake with the hiccups. S gave me the grand tour, and I can report that her home truly is grand. Of course there is only so much you can do with an igloo. Renovations are still underway, but soon I am sure she will be ready to throw a big party so we can all come and trash the place.
We sat down in the living room for a cocktail while I presented S with gifts for the occasion. These included a house-warming gift (a plastic scarepenguin for the lawn) and then a birthday gift (a pair of panties embroidered “Not tonight chump”). We then sat and stared at the large hole in the wall above the fireplace that S assures me will one day hold a large-format television.
With cocktail hour concluded, we began seriously considering where to have dinner. Short of driving the dogsled back to civilization, we really only had two choices. We could go to Starbuck’s (I understand they secretly opened a store on Mars, just to be ready) or to Outback Steak House. We were hungry, so we decided to go see what the Aussies might have on the barbie (I shall resist the urge to mention Ken).
Now I must freely admit that when I am at my girlie best, I am rather nervous about approaching a place that has country music playing. I know that this is prejudice on my part, and I have never had a cowboy actually say “hey, this little lady is actually a dude in a dress!” and proceed to kick the whatever out of me. In fact, I have never had anyone say anything mean at all. In spite of being just a tad nervous, and knowing that the best defense is a good offense, I flung open the front doors of Outback and yelled, “barkeep, three fingers of rotgut!” Oh wait, I think that was only in my head.
Actually, we walked in serenely and we were greeted
with warm and friendly smiles. We were immediately escorted through the semi-crowded dining room to a nice booth in the corner. I suspect the manager thought the corner would keep us contained and as far from the other customers as possible. It actually worked out very nicely because it gave me a great view of all the other patrons. Of course S had to sit with her back to everyone else, so she had to rely upon my descriptions of the angry looks that we were getting. No, I’m kidding again! Apart from the staff, I really don’t think anyone else even noticed us. Darn! I knew I should have worn that short, sexy dress!You will no doubt recall that my memory is very poor for things like people’s names and how to spell occcasssiooon. I remember how to spell Mississississipppppppi only because of the little sing-song diddy. My mind also tends to wander a bit and I forget what . . . huh?
Oh yeah, names. It is time for me to apologize to the absolutely wonderful ladies who took care of us at Outback that night. Our server was Laurie, but it might have been Lori, or Lauri, or Lowrie. Her partner’s name slipped entirely out of my head, except that I think it started with an “M”. Michelle? Melissa? Marianne? Mississississippppppi? I am pretty sure the manager was Heather, but I might have that wrong too. Anyway, my apologies ladies for not remembering your names properly, but I do remember how nice you were to S and me. And for that, I thank you!As always, I assume that the staff tumbled to my “secret” almost immediately. Of course this was not a problem and soon we were laughing and joking and using them as models for what proper female cheekbones are supposed to look like. We ended up sitting in Outback until they were ready to close, eating, drinking and chatting. All together, I think we were there for nearly 3 hours.
L&M both had a number of pins on their shirts which we found were awarded for various good deeds, including customer compliments. We immediately summoned Heather the manager and praised the wonderful service and attitude that L&M had brought to our dining experience. When the ladies returned to our table, they had both been awarded new pins that read “I served a Trannie!” Not really, but they did get swell new pins because of our praise, and we had a great time!
When we finally left Outback, all the other customers were gone. It was late, so we headed back to S’s place (that still looks funny) and had a nightcap. Then it was time for me to round up the dogsled team and start the long trek home. Unfortunately I was intercepted by a pack of wolves on the way home. They abducted me and I was held for ransom. All the while I was in captivity, the wolves belittled me for my choice of outfits. “You should have worn something short and sexy you trannie!” To their surprise, Sue refused to pay any ransom. They eventually negotiated a price for my return. They only had to pay Sue $10 to take me back.
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I said I would talk a bit about the whys and wherefores of my limited “heel time” this month. Naw, you don’t want to hear all that real world stuff. But I will close with a look at what October will bring for me.
After returning from a vacation trip to Washington DC, I will have the honor of attending a commitment ceremony for two friends in Joliet. Many of Maureen and Dave’s friends are part of the LGBT community (including moi), and they are sensitive to the laws barring their friends from marriage. Consequently, they have decided to commit themselves to one another in the company of their friends, and as Dave put it, “we will get married when our friends can get married.” A toast to Maureen and Dave!
Halloween will get off to an early start on October 23 when Transformations and Skyscraper Heels present “Halloween The Party”. This of course sets of my annual quest to find a costume that is (a) femme, (b) sexy, and (c) inexpensive. Hopefully my understanding Publisher will set the November deadline for some date after the party so that I can report on all the fun.
Halloween itself falls on a Sunday this year. Personally, I think the calendar needs to be changed so that it is always on Saturday. I am thinking that the Saturday night before (October 30 that is) would be a good night to make the long delayed journey to Boystown. Perhaps not in a costume as such, but dressed to party. It might even be a good time for the silver thigh-high boots to make an appearance!
I hope I see you around the bar!
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Hugs,Greer
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Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Please send to me at greercd@hotmail.com
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