Out with the girls...

Listening to "Sunday Afternoon" by Rachael Yamagata

Well, your intrepid "undercover" reporter met up with some friends last night for drinks. The entire night went incredibly well except for leaving the house.

I live in a 2 unit development where our neighbors share the same front porch. Normally, that would be ok but there are no other points of exit on our side (no back door, a side door that leads out to the front and no garage, alley). So when it comes time to leave, I have to pass right by their usually open front door (and usually their dogs go nuts over the "new" person who's walking by). I really need to tell them but one of them has a small child and I'm just not sure how to address that.

So, because of that, I had to leave a bit later than I wanted (8:30 vs. 7:30). I'm on my way out the door and I get a call from one of the coolest people I know, Jody. Turns out she's hanging out at the 20's club and was wanting me to get my lazy ass up there before they had to leave for the night. Well, I had plans to meet Erin at El Mercado for a drink or two beforehand and told Jody that I would grab Erin and we'd head up there. I chugged a beer, took a deep breath, opened the door and walked swiftly by my neighbor's open door (thankfully, noone was standing there which has happened before... :) I jumped in the Gwnnmobile and headed to El Mercado.

I tried calling Erin to see if she just wanted to meet at 20's but she didn't pick up. Strange...

I got to El Mercado and did my best "walk-in-with-confidence" act. I have a hard time looking people in the eye anyway and even moreso when out as Gwnn but this time I just peered right back at anyone who looked at me on the way in. Seemed to work ok... I informed Erin we needed to leave pronto but she wasn't finished with her drink and she already bought me my favorite drink. Well, we wound up chugging both and leaving within 5 minutes. We said bye to one of the cutest bartenders in Quirksville, Brittany, and made our way to 20's.

We get to 20's and Margaret is belting out the standards (Margaret is truly one of Quirksville's best jazz singers and I highly recommend that *everyone* go and see her if you get a chance). I'm surprised to see that Cynthia, my favorite bartender, is working. I thought she didn't work there anymore as I hadn't seen her in nearly a month. I'm so glad she was there (although I was a bit rude later as I didn't get a chance to say bye...) and shared with her a story that I had been dying to confirm with her for a month (that I thought I saw her walking down a downtown street early on a Friday morning a few weeks past).

After getting a drink, I joined the girls at a table. To my surprise, Brandy and Paula were out as well and they were sitting with Jody and Sybil. It seems like forever since I've seen Brandy and Paula (even though it was only a month ago... I hate getting older... :) And with Margaret pounding out the music and our table right next to a speaker, it was a bit awkward trying to talk across the table. Eventually, I made it over to the bench seat next to Jody and Sybil. Since I'm pressed for time, I won't get into details of our conversations (which were interesting things like if you're a guy and you're attracted to a guy dressed as a girl, does that make you gay?) Hehe, I'll save those conversations for later (good for blackmail... ;)

God, I'm glad that Jody and Sybil could make it out as I just have *so* much fun with them. But the long and short of it was we left a bit early (as it is a school night for most of us) and Erin and I decided to head back. But I will share one more thing. We decided to stop in at Charlie's just to see if we knew anybody (as Thurs. they have a regular drag show). We didn't see anybody we knew but we were there a bit early so I think the girls started coming out after we left (esp. with the IFGE convention in town). But on the way back to the car, we walked by some reflective windows and I looked over. I was surprised to see this attractive girl looking back. I almost didn't recognize her but I watched how she moved, looked at the body and details and was just taken aback. It was the first time I had ever really seen Gwnn as "Gwnn the girl" instead of "Gwnn the Impersonator." It was a rush! I'm such a dork... ;)

Anyway, I'm outta here. I'm supposed to be going out again tonight so maybe I'll have something to post tomorrow.

Followed...

Listening to "Letter Read" by Rachael Yamagata

Well, as my first really unwelcome revelation to being perceived as female in our society, I was actually followed home by someone on Saturday night after leaving a club. I noticed him following me from pretty much the parking lot of the club but since it was 2am, I couldn't just drop the hammer on the Gwnnmobile and outrun him as I wanted to keep a low profile and not get pulled over (I had a secret jet engine along with an oil slick nozzle and smoke screen installed on the Gwnnmobile last week just for this purpose...)

Most of my female friends I've had over the years have told me stories of being followed home and harrassed by guys calling and the like. Looking at it from a male perspective, I used to know people who would do things like that and think the motives are usually harmless and it wasn't a big deal... And then it happens to you and the entire perspective changes. You don't know what the intentions are. It's pretty scary...

So after having him follow me about 10 miles down the highway, I pulled off and thought I'd throw him off the trail. I pulled in to a 24hr drive thru and bought some late night munchies and watched him circle around the parking lot and park on the street. Once I got my food, I watched the light on Main street and timed my departure to where I would just barely get through legally (I happen to know the timing on this one light fairly well, so I punched it through to where he couldn't get through w/o running the light) and then went through a large southern neighborhood before getting back on the highway to motor home. I was kinda bummed as I didn't get to use any of the secret upgrades on the Gwnnmobile but I guess I might get an opportunity again sometime in the future (I hope not, tho).

Well, on a lighter note, there's going to be a convention here this week and I'm hoping to have some good party anecdotes to post. As well as I should have my first meeting with a counselor specializing in gender issues. Should be an interesting week...

Off to the dance...

[Continuation of Samba, anyone?]

I stealthily sneak out of my wonderfully kitschy, South Quirksville bungalow and head due north to Erin's place. While rounding the bend to merge on to the highway, my foot slips off the brake pedal and I nearly wind up ass-kissing the Mercedes in front of me. Hmm... Number 276 on the list of "What's different while you're a girl." Driving a car in heels, especially stilettos...

I always used to wonder why I seemed to notice that some women drivers would sometimes accelerate too fast or not brake as gracefully as others on the road and I'm now convinced on what that cause is. It's the heels. Put me in flats and I can drive like Mario Andretti. Put me in a 3" stiletto and I suddenly become Public Driving Menace #1. God help us if there's a clutch...

I pull into Erin's place and leave the GwnnMobile for the night. Luckily for society at large, Erin has volunteered to drive which will keep a probably tipsy Gwnn off the road for the night. Stepping into Erin's tastefully appointed home, I get the "Critical Eye" and I expect a bit of constructive criticism on what I could do to improve.

"You did quite well tonight, I'm surprised," Erin says with subtle laugh in her voice and prize-winning smile. "But I want you to try on this skirt. It'll be perfect for tonight and will go very well with what you're wearing."

Erin then brings out a black suede mini with a bit of a tulip hem on it. Now before you get all concerned about wearing a suede mini and how awful that might look, being 5'9" and 145lbs and usually fitting into a size 4 in most designers, I can pretty much wear any of the latest styles. Comparing to some famous celebrities bodies, I would say that Gwnn's is a close match to Jennifer Garner (Gwnn's namesake and inspiration ;) who has a lean, athletic build and at times, and can look a bit boyish as well. So while it was a true curse growing up, I'm now thankful that all those years of lifting weights and playing soccer didn't add bulky inches to Gwnn's body. And I'm sure the general public is probably thankful now as well.

So I slide into the suede mini which Erin got for a spectacular price (XOXO suede mini for $10, marked down from $110. Where does she find these bargains?) and while being a bit big in the waist (which most skirts are on a "boy-shaped" girl), the fit below the waist was perfect. The sheer top with the hot little suede skirt, sheer black hose and stiletto heels screamed "Salsa, Baby!" It's just too bad that Gwnn can't dance... ;)

We jump into the ErinMobile and head due south for Central Quirksville where the big event is to be held, all the while Gwnn's doing her best to not let this event tie up her already knotted stomach. I'll still never get comfortable going out in public even though I've been doing it for almost 2 years now. Even though I've never had *any* problems other than a double-take or two, it just never gets easier. And unfortunately for Erin, she gets to deal with my paranoia...

"What if we can't get tickets? I mean, I don't want to walk all the way there with *people* around staring and pointing, you know. And what if I'm, like, the only grrl that shows up? Well, that shouldn't be a problem. There'll be some outrageous people there. They won't be looking..."

"Gwnn, did you not have a drink before you left?" knowing that it really makes Gwnn more tolerable early on if she's had a shot of alcohol to calm those fragile nerves.

"Umm, no... I forgot... Guess I should've made it a priority."

Before we can get into the dance, I need to get some cash to pay for it ($30 a ticket + alcohol once you get in) so we needed to find an ATM. We stop in at an ATM just down the street from the arena and Erin lets Gwnn get out (the ATM was on the driver's side). I look around and see that there are a few guys walking towards Threadgill's and jump out of the car. Adjusting my skirt while walking to the ATM, I feel like I'm about to go onstage as the light coming from Erin's car reminds me of footlights on a stage. Well, I guess that's appropriate as really, at time, it feels just like acting...

I get back in and Erin informs me that the guys walking down the street were "Checkin' me out." One thing I will forever be grateful about going out dressed like a girl is the understanding I now have about how truly lecherous guys generally are. On the one hand, yes, I'm wearing a suede mini with stilettos, so a fair amount of gawking has been asked for by me. But being a fairly attractive female, I do get "checked out" quite a bit. And those looks are different from the typical, everyday looks. Most of the time, it does make you feel a bit uncomfortable. Thankfully, I only do this part time but I can't imagine what it would be like 24/7, like it is for all women. I'll say it now, you all have my deepest sympathy...

Samba, anyone?

"Well, you could make a lot of money in Brazil," the slightly disheveled Brazilian party drunk quips. And with that, my night at Carnaval ends; an interesting comment that I'll remember the rest of my life.

This night was probably the most "important" night of Gwnn's short self-confidence building career. It started out like so many of the others, though. What to wear? A solid 2 1/2 hours of selecting, trying on and throwing into a will-put-them-back-up-on-hangers-later pile at the foot of the bed. After finally selecting a denim micromini with cranberry scarf as a belt and a sheer multicolor top (predominantly different shades of green; about as much Brazilian as the local New York & Company) with pointy stilettos, I give Erin a ring on the phone to let her know I'm on my way. Erin asks what I'm wearing and I go through a quick summary of the last 2 hours...

"Well, I started with a longer skirt than thought, well, a lot of people there won't be wearing much anyway. After all, we shouldn't be sticking out that much tonight... So I...."

"Ok, stop telling me what led up to your decision and tell me what you are going to wear..."

So I give the quick summary above.

"That's perfect. I happened to pick up a skirt that I think will fit you and will be perfect for tonight. So let's get moving..."

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.