A Daunting Experience

Good Day, Ladies.

Today, while out and about in town, I had what I can only describe as a daunting experience.

The day started off well enough, I was up just before dawn had my breakfast and put on my make-up. I have recently bought a new wig which is a dark blonde with black roots at the parting. I have been out wearing it a few times now and I am surprised at how well it suits me. In fact, I have had a lot of compliments on my new look.

Today then, having got ready, I put on my new wig and coat and set off to the city. I arrived at my usual restaurant just  after eleven o’ clock. This is my normal time of arrival as the restaurant opens at eleven and I like to be there early. My favourite waitress was back from Mexico so she made some small talk about her holiday. She brought me coffee and I ordered my meal. While I waited I read my book and sipped the coffee, which to me is the best in town.

While I was eating and not paying all that much attention to my surroundings, one of the women in the restaurant stopped by my table. She said hello and that we had met before and do I remember her? I said that yes, I remember meeting her. She than said that she likes the blond, indicating my hair. After that, she didn’t say too much but, as she started to move away in the direction of the ladies’ washroom, I asked her name.

“Maureen,” she said, then asked me mine.

Well, I have been feeling that Lynnette is more suited to me so I just replied, “Lynne.”

With that, she smiled and went on her way.

The incident when we met before was several months ago when, on her way back from the ladies’ washroom, she plonked herself down opposite to me and then got all flustered saying that she was sorry and that she had  sat at the wrong table.  She then moved on to the table one down from where I was sitting.

Later on, I had finished my coffee and paid my bill. I was just packing things back into my shoulder bag when Maureen (she looks to be in her sixties, by the way) came over again. She had been sitting in a booth across the aisle to me and with the back of the booth towards me.

“Lynne,” says she, looking at me as if seeking permission to sit down.

My expression must have made her feel free to do just that, so she then sat down opposite to me.

“You are a cross dresser?” says she, without preamble. She said it in that way as well, two separate words.

Well, what was I going to do? I couldn’t say, “No, I’m a woman.” and telling her that I am trans, I’m sure, would have required too much explanation. So I just nodded, kind of noncommittally.

She then asked quite a few  questions.

“You come in here a lot. Why do you always come in here?”

“I like the coffee,” I said, indicating my coffee cup.

“How long have you been cross dressing?”

“Quite a few years.”

“You must have lots of wigs. I remember the long one (meaning the ombre) and the brown one.

“I have three.”

Her eyes then flickered to my left hand, as mine had flickered to hers out of old habit.

“Have you ever been married?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have family and what do they think of you cross dressing?”

“They are alright with it.”

“It is what it is, right?”

“Do you celebrate Christmas?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Is your tree up? I have been putting up my decorations.”

“Yes, my tree is up but I haven’t done much by way of decorating.”

Her friend, having put her coat on, then came over to the table.

Maureen then said, as she was getting up from the table, “I’ve just been asking him about his cross dressing. He has been telling me about it.”

Then she gets to her feet and asks me if I play a guitar.

I said that no, I don’t play a guitar.

“I’m taking lessons,” says she.

“Maybe you’d like to meet for coffee sometime,” says I.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m always here and there. We’ll see.”

With that, they both moved on.

It is to be noted that I always speak in a quiet voice, where she was speaking in a loud one. I would think that she always speaks at that volume, you know, loud enough that the customers at the far side of the restaurant can hear.

After that experience I sat where I was for a while pretending to examine my phone. However, when I did get up and leave the restaurant I did not get any strange looks.

I would be interested in your comments on that incident, girls as I can’t decide whether it was a positive experience or otherwise. I didn’t feel all that comfortable going through it, I can tell you that.

Of course, driving home I thought of a lot of things I could have said and a lot of different ways I could have reacted. That is always how it seems to be though.

Thank You Girls for Listening.

Lynne