Close Encounters

June’s Close Encounter:

Have you ever experienced a close encounter, of any kind, en femme?

Here’s an analogy of close encounter ratings adapted from UFO sighting classifications:

Encounters with Cross Dressers can be categorized into five groups as close encounters of the first, second, third, fourth and fifth kind.

When a person sees a Cross Dresser within 50 meters, it’s an encounter of the first kind.

When an encounter with a Cross Dresser leaves evidence behind such as skid marks on the pavement from screeching tires for a closer look, or minor crashes resulting from rubber necking drivers losing their attention from traffic, etc., it’s of the second kind.

When an encounter is with Cross Dressers up close, such as passing one in an aisle while grocery shopping, it’s of the third kind.

The fourth kind involves the person being taken in by the beauty and wonderment of a Cross Dresser that they are drawn into the phenomenon themselves.

The fifth kind involves direct communication between Cross Dressers and other humans.

With these classifications in mind, I have a mini novel to share with you about a most recent close encounter.  Perhaps you should settle into your favorite chair with a beverage by your side… as you take note of each classification of close encounter.

Most recently, A TG friend and I met at my home.  We had a lite lunch, “plunked” our guitars, enjoyed a tasty Bundt cake and then headed out for an afternoon of shopping and dinner.  I (June) had gotten in my grocery shopping earlier in the week for our lunch.  June strolled up and down every aisle in the grocery store, sometimes passing by my intended targets just so I could spend more time there.  I had unintentionally blocked the aisle with my cart several times as I looked at all the options on the shelves.  In each instance, I spoke through my mask saying “pardon me”, or “I’m sorry”, as I looked the men and women in the eye, and smiled.  Never did I feel there was any indication they suspected I was anything less than I appeared.  I hope they could tell I was smiling, because I was really happy!

Prior to heading out, I wore a hunter green skirt my wife had purchased for me, a bright yellow button-down V neck blouse, taupe wedge heels, white tipped nails, a straw purse, gold hoop earrings, a diamond pendant necklace, and my hair loosely tied back in a brushed gold barrette. Under my mask, I wore Rose Pink lipstick and a really big smile. I stood in front of the mirror to ensure I was appropriately dressed as a proper lady. Okay, maybe I was admiring the image before me…whichever. It’s my opinion that I was appropriately dressed as a proper senior citizen aged lady.

When I had fulfilled my shopping list, I headed to the checkout.  Feeling really good about myself, I bypassed the self-check kiosks, and headed to the checkout lane.  The cashier was an attractive young black lady.  I’ll name her Donna.  She was very pleasant.  I answered the usual questions: “did I find everything, cash or credit, what type bag, if I wanted the meat bagged separately?” etc.   As I withdrew my credit card, Donna pulled my cart toward her; she handed me my receipt and pushed the cart around and continued walking past me with my cart of groceries.  I took up my place next to her and thanked her for her assistance.  What happened next is a lesson in Customer Relations.

Donna placed her arm around my shoulder and said: “My father was transgender and too afraid to go out. I always felt bad for him. I am so glad to see you guys are not afraid and enjoying yourself.” I looked her in the eye and thanked her.  Then I asked what I could do better, and how did she knew? She replied: “look at you, all dressed up… you go girl!” she hugged me, clapped her hands, and turned away to help the next person at her station.  I stood there for a moment, then turned to look at her as she began checking out the next customer.  She looked up at me and we smiled at each other through our masks.  I was overwhelmed with joy!

Beaming with joy, I strolled out the store and sat in my truck (I drive a 2019, F250 XLT, 6.7L Turbo Diesel…it ain’t no wimpy truck!) recalling what I just experienced, and began analyzing her remark to my questions.  I thought Donna knew because of my size. I stand 6ft and I now weigh 184lbs, and my feet are large for a woman.  But I’ve seen women similar and larger by dimension.  No, I thought, this cannot be it alone.  Then it came to me!  It occurred to me Donna was telling me I was overdressed.  Now, my father, who by the way would disown me if he knew what you know about me, taught me “there is nothing wrong with being the best dressed man in the room.” Okay, I wasn’t dressed as a man, so you have to insert “person” or “woman” in place of the “man” word.  That said, I began looking around at people entering and exiting the store.  How were the women dressed?  I noticed how casually and sloppy the women were dressed.  In my opinion, among the joys of dressing en femme is the clothes.  It’s not just the undergarments, and nylon stockings and lipstick… it’s the “total look.”  Not too unlike others of us, I want to always appear to be a classy, proper lady.  In fact, I DO WANT people to turn their heads for another look.  I want this because I want them to have an eyeful of just that…a classy and proper lady.  Clothes do make the persona.  If you read my profile you will know that I want to be inconspicuous, and to blend in as a classy, proper lady for my age.  Don’t we all?  But I don’t think we should sacrifice that goal because the women I observed, choose to dress as slobs. I’m steadfast in my objective!

Do you remember the name, Donna?  She is the young black lady in my story who took me into her confidence.  I returned to the store (in male mode) later in the week and asked to speak with the Store Manager.  He was on a call and could not come, so the Assistant Manager came to meet me.  As I waited, I re-rehearsed what I wanted to say.  I developed a lump in my throat because I was about to confess something only my wife, and a few very important people, know about me.

I introduced myself as my male persona, and said I want to acknowledge your employee, Donna. She epitomizes good customer relations.  I am a Cross Dresser, and the other evening Donna helped me as I was checking out.  She conducted herself in a professional and courteous manner requisite of recognition.  So, if you have an “ATTA BOY” award, or Employee Recognition program in place, I nominate her for the award.  The Assistant Manager, whom I will name Ann, thanked me for my compliments and assured me she would share my comments with Donna, and the Store Manager.  I thanked her, and turned to pick up a few produce items.  When I arrived at the checkout, Ann was talking with the cashier… Now I wonder what the conversation was about?

It feels good to recognize those who recognize “us” in a positive way.

As you experience your close encounters remember to always be your own kind of beautiful as you experience the feminine mystique through the thrill of this phenomenon called Cross Dressing.

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*As you read through this account, how many classifications of close encounters do you recognize in this true story?

*When you are out en femme and have direct encounters with sales clerks or cashiers, do you use a practiced femme voice when talking with these folks, or do you use your natural male voice?

*Would you like to share with our readers your first experience while out in public en femme when you had your very first verbal encounter with a sales clerk or cashier and how did it go for you?

Thanks for taking the time to read my article and please feel free to send in a response to my article or to offer up an answer to one or more of the questions I’ve posed to you above.

Warm Personal Regards,

June