Feb 6, 2009

Ladies who Lunch

For many cross dressers, the very best that can be hoped for are short and private moments of delight. It seems to me that a smaller number of us are able to enjoy much longer and much more public sessions en femme. I am deliriously happy to find myself in the latter set. And I have been on a bit of a tear of late. Some nice and surprising findings have come out of this flurry of activity. I wanted to take a few moments this beautiful Friday to share them with you. A couple of background thoughts first though:
I suspect that all of us at the start of our explorations of cross dressing were drawn to the exceptional things. The remarkable feeling of fabrics less coarse and more clingy. The danger and risk of being caught. The breath catching moment when you see your made-up face or filled-out figure in the mirror. These remarkable highs are intoxicating. Once tasted, you know you will be back for seconds. And god forbid those feelings should ever go away. I want to be surprised and delighted every time I dress.

I want to talk today about moments that are the polar opposite of exceptional. Lets call them moments of normal. And what, dear reader, could be more normal than lunch?

I am privileged in my work to have a great deal of schedule flexibility, and a home office to conduct business from. I am also privileged to have a GG friend who has, shall we say, a calling and a professional interest in the life of the cross dresser. Time to time she provides a setting for me to enjoy dressing more completely, and additionally lends an artistic competency to the application of makeup that I will never have for myself.

Last week we enjoyed an epic shopping day together. I chronicled some of it in
this post. After a solid 4 hours fully dressed and perched atop teetering stilettos it was time for the reward of a late lunch. The Virginia Highlands neighborhood of Atlanta was on our route, and furnished plenty of choice. We happily settled on Murphy’s which was busy as ever, and bright as it always is

When we seated for lunch, or waitress made a very nice point of finding us some black table linens for us … “you ladies don’t want your outfits ruined”. A glass of Pinot Grigio and a nice Waldorf salad on a croissant seemed like the right choice for the daytime shopping set. Ramona excused herself for a moment and I was able to catch up on a couple of emails while I waited, legs crossed and a buzz of diners all around. Naturally, food arrived while my friend was away freshening up. A sympathetic smile from our waitress and…

“ it never fails, when one of us has to go the food has to come…”

A diner at an adjacent table, a woman perhaps in her 60’s in the company of her husband offered up a conspiratorial endorsement of my selection….

“I love the Waldorf salad here, lucky you, I nearly ordered it again today….

Ramona was soon back, lunch was delicious and the world just continued to turn as ever.

I was in the neighborhood again this week. The Highland Tap is not so sunlit a room as Murphy’s and was not as busy a place on this chilly day. Lots of dark wood paneling, serious booths and subtle green shade lighting. A very clubby place, and so I was happy to have a nice suit on.

We were seated, handed menus, told of the specials of the day, none of which I heard because I was staring. You should have seen the lashes on our waitress. I had to complement her. She was bashfully thankful and then started into the news she heard about a pill that causes eyelashes to grow longer, fuller and better and can you believe it? she asked because something about that just seemed too wrong for words.

So there the 3 of us were pondering along these lines … would I take a pill for better lashes? and just how do they make them grow without giving me even more hairy arms or worse?

She was fairly new on staff we found out, having recently moved back to Atlanta from out west. Tremors in the economy had swallowed up her job in the banking sector in a mad gulp. Here she was working her way through an unexpected and undeserved set back in life. How tired that must make you feel on a bad day. I was imagining too how much I would miss big endless Scottsdale sunsets and the stark beauty of the desert if I had to leave them against my will. But how graceful and honest and cheerful she was.

Lunch was delivered and was delicious, and Ramona and myself spoke about many things, not all of them to do with cross dressing. As it happens we both have diverse interests and busy lives beyond the bras, breast forms and butt padding. The sorts of things that you find out while having a nice lunch. The sort of nice, normal human experience that makes you for moments forget the silky feelings on the leg, and the electric touch of your wig on the nape of your neck.

Yes, our dressing is, it seems to me, exceptional, and I love the exceptional feelings that come along with it. I never want them to dim. I want these days to be exceptional. It is a pleasant surprise to me though that dressing and presenting has a potential for normal that we all need as social animals. I am realist friends. I know for certain that I was “clocked” on both occasions. If nothing else, my voice gives it all away. But all of that does not need to get in the way of normal. And these are moments that I would wish on any of you reading this today, and on all the people you care for.

Happy Friday.


The Crossdresser's Girlfriend said...

You look absolutely stunning in this photo! You have the elegant legs of a fawn! You should go out. Those special moments spark energies that carry over into other parts of our lives. Live out loud whenever possible!

Petra Bellejambes said...

Dear GF. You are too kind, and I am well flattered. I do go out, and I wish that everyone who shares our enthusiams can do the same. Here's to life out loud!

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