In Walks Jackie

[Make sure to read "The Introduction to Lou" first as this is a continuation of that post.]

I look over Lou's shoulder and do my best to not stare as she walks through the golden doors and into the bar. She looks once to the right, once to the left and proceeds forward down the small aisle between the bar and the tables. She's walking towards our table and I again feel the need for disconnect, just in case she happens to look my way. So I look off to the right, towards the barkeep and do my best to hide behind a little wisp of hair coming off the left side of my head.

For some reason, I have yet to get comfortable with talking to people. I guess I'm coming to understand a small, dark corner of the American female experience as I always seem to feel this judging eye everytime I walk into a room and notice the double takes. The double takes from guys are seemingly easier to handle as, at least to me, I feel like I can understand what they are actually thinking. What's harder from the guys are the comments. They are more likely to let loose an interesting "complimentary" quip given half a chance (and if they're an asshole). But women are a bit different. I almost get this feeling like I'm walking on some hallowed ground; like a New York Yankee on Fenway Park turf. A feeling like it's just someplace where I'm not supposed to be. I swear you can feel the mental dissection from head to toe. So when you decide to wear a tight pencil skirt, fitted blouse and stilettos with "smoky eye" makeup here in Austin, you can almost guarantee that the looks will be coming as most of the girls will just be "natural," something I feel I can't do as part-timer.

So this striking woman walks by our table. Ha-ha! I successfully hid myself from her view and I chalk up, to me, a small victory in my steadfastly lopsided war of self-conciousness. Lou reaches out and grabs the blonde's baby blue sweater at the elbow and now my stomach, which was slowly untying thanks to the alcohol finally kicking in, starts contracting again.

"Erin and Gwnn, this is Jackie. I call her Jack-qua."

I do my best to look her in the eyes while saying hello and I mumble my way through a standard greeting ("Umm, eem gwnn. Nis to meet ooo"). What makes it even harder is that I can feel my lipstick has worn off and I didn't have a chance to brush my hair since going out into the Texas gale to pursue the first part of my Alcohol Odyssey (mentioned in my first post). The reason I was in such sorry shape was that before I was sent to get the Golden Duckets from the Land of ATM, I had to run the gauntlet of the Cis to use the facilities.

Now, I bet some of you wonder what we do if we need to go while we're out. Well, we use the women's bathroom if there is no gender-neutral option. This is perfectly legal in Quirksville and most women I've run into while using the facilities don't mind. But trust me, I don't hang around in there fussing with reapplying makeup or fixing my hair. Generally, what I do is start watching the traffic going to the facilities to judge any pattern of usage. Granted, this is a totally random thing but it does follow patterns. I used to work in retail and we use to comment on a condition we used to call the "Sheep Effect." Basically, people would stagger into the store over the course of an hour or so but none of them would ever purchase anything when there was no wait at the checkout. Then, magically, some critical level gets reached and the first customer takes their purchase to the register. Then the next person comes up before the first customer is completed. Then the third customer stands in line quickly followed by everyone else in the store until there are only 1 or 2 people not in line. We figured that people actually wanted to stand in line. Maybe just so they would have something to complain about. Who knows?

So before the expedition to the ATM, I had to use the facilities. I saw what I thought was a lull in the traffic and made my way there. This bathroom was unusually small for such a large restaurant having only 2 stalls available. Luckily, I timed it right and the facilities were clear. But on the way out, I didn't hang around to touch-up so I paid for that decision by having dry-feeling lips and flatish, unkempt hair distracting me from fully articulating my consonants to Jackie and Lou. A severe blow to my already low level of girl confidence.

Now, for me, one of the worst social conditions existed at that table. I was sitting next to Erin on my left who had Lou on her left, which left the only open seat at the table to my right. Argh! Right smack there next to me and I have nowhere to hide or landmarks to stare at. Worse yet, I'll have to converse. My usual personna, Bubba, has all kinds of security issues when talking to attractive women so it isn't hard to imagine that if you throw on non-Bubba attire, Gwnn's going to have problems talking to just about everybody.

The Introduction to Lou

So here we are... Erin and I are sitting in one of the most upscale bars in Quirksville (btw, thanks QueenOfSky for the Quirksville moniker... I think it's a perfect description of our little town). Erin, stares at me whimsically, watching as I had my 5th straight panic attack in less than 45 mins.

"So when are you going to go to the ATM so I can order another drink?"

I answer while sitting on my shaking hands wishing so badly that the shaking had more to do with the consumption of alcohol than my most recent panic attack.

"Ok, I've lost feeling in my right foot. Let me get some blood to my feet first so I don't make a fool of myself falling on the floor," effectively delaying my departure while realizing this is close to my first time in public presenting as a girl and I'm bound to look a bit foolish to others, which was the solid foundation of the first panic attack 40 mins ago.

"You just need to do it. Get up and walk out. No one will be the wiser."

"Yah, sure..."

And so it came down to one of my first truly life changing decisions of this night: In order to get another beer, I need to get money from the ATM. But I need more beer in order to gain the confidence to walk across this elegant, westernized bar and out the doors that are actually manned by real doortrolls... An interesting catch 22...

So I decide to bite the bullet, throw myself on the grenade, screw the pooch, [insert your favorite axiom here]. There's no doubt about it. I'm never going to get through the rest of this night without our buddy Alky, so I stand up, adjust my tightish, grey pencil skirt and head to the doors.

Geez... It seems that everyone is looking (even though I know no one *really* cares.) but I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, balancing on the stilletto heel while concentrating on walking using my hips instead of leaning forward like a female neanderthal. Walking like a girl is hard...

I get to the transparent doors, the doortrolls open them before I get there and I flash my best attempt at a smile even though I know it comes off more like a dutiful acknowledgment of an unexpected favor than a real smile. I walk through, turn right and while *straining* to hear what interesting slams the doortrolls might be saying of me, I start walking down the street to the ATM (which is conveniently located past the hotel, past the restaurant and past the theater.) I pay the outrageous ATM fee and do my best to duck a few couples walking past. My god, am I really this insecure?

Concentrate on the walk. What's that guy looking at across the street? Oh, well. I'm too far away from him to tell. The doortrolls sense my presence and magically, both trolls open both doors to the bar. Ah, my first Princess Di moment...

I make it back to the table in one piece (surprisingly) and jump back up on the chair. I give Erin the green light to order some alcohol as that walk really makes me thirsty (after all, I just walked all of 250ft in stillettos, dammit!) It's about that time I notice Lou.

Lou strolls in, makes her way to the bar, says a few words to the barkeep and turns to look around (I notice her as she's an amazingly attractive woman wearing this bitchen' newsboy cap with a great jacket. Mui stylish...). Now, to my alcohol-tinged perspective, it seems that Lou then notices Erin's growing discontent with me looking for a smidgen of validation for the feat I just managed to pull off (for the record, Erin was only marginally impressed as she goes *everywhere* and a walk to the ATM is not the Odyssey that it is to me... :)

OMG, is she coming over to our table? Holy shit, she just walked up to the table. Thank god that Erin's sitting on the edge; she lives for these moments... I'll just look at... umm, that lamp. Yes, I'll look at the lamp. What a fine lamp it is...

Lou introduces herself to Erin and I do my best to look away from the lamp just long enough to see what's going on. Ack! She's going to sit down! Now I'm screwed. She's in front of the lamp. Quick! Find another landmark. The TV. It's got a basketball game on but I'll look at it anyway (not a big fan of basketball). I'm sure to Lou this just looks like aloofness but I think I feel the tingles of that 6th panic attack working its way up from my fully knotted stomach.

"Lou, this is Gwen," Erin says. Well, it's the right thing to do. Damn you Erin! Am I really ready for this?

A little background before I continue. Gwen has been going out for the better part of a year. In that time, she has made great strides from that first hotel room in Houston that she couldn't get out of to this agonizingly long, deer-in-the-headlights moment. Sitting across from me in this regular, everyday place that everyone you know takes for granted except those of us bucking the social taboos, is this gorgeous woman and she actually talks to us.

So, before I can issue my first "Hi, nice to meet you" in my best demure female voice, I'm wondering... Does she know? Of course she does. But what if she doesn't? I start hearing all of those "backhanded" compliments I've been getting lately. You know the kind. Like the homeless guy said to his homeless girlfriend, "Damn, that's the prettiest guy I've ever seen." Or from a random guy at the party, "Ya'll are the classiest girls here," while surrounded by incredibly beautiful and talented women. You wind up taking those as both a compliment and a knock, it just depends on how you feel at that immediate moment. While it's nice to be acknowledged as "pretty," it is also at the same time a bit depressing as you're: 1) obvious enough to the drunk homeless guy and 2) not receiving a compliment that you can actually file away as 100% good and without disclaimers.

Now, I'll be absolutely honest. I really don't think I fool anyone. I honestly think that when people see me, they know. They have to know. But at the same time, I know Gwnn is still a physically attractive female. I also know there are more than a few people that look and appreciate my attempts at trying to "blend" (thankfully, I'm small framed so my 5'9", 145 lbs appears feminine). And I try my best to "look the part" and I believe that people appreciate that even though they still wind up doing a few double takes every now and then.

So I'm able to get through the pleasantries without losing my wig or something equally embarrassing. And Lou is great. Erin and her start talking up a storm. Believe it or not, I actually commented to Erin earlier in the night about how cool it would be to have more company at the table with us. Lou quite literally plucked that meme from the western, firelit air and sat it down right in front of me.

So how cool is this? Can it get cooler? I lift my freshly purchased beer to take a swig and focus on the doors that serve as the gateway to the bar. In steps another amazing blonde, this time with long tresses offsetting her funky bohemian glasses and blue cashmere scarf. One word. Wow.