Much of this has been covered in previous posts, but here’s the “complete uncensored version”Its fairly long so please allow a few minutes to read it. Grab a coffee or something a bit stronger and sit back and (hopefully) enjoy it.
Almost all of it relates to my “days on the road” as “the rep” for my company.
RED IN THE FACE, (AND THE RED CHANNEL AS WELL).
With only small value commercial samples in my luggage I was always careful not to antagonise the “nice Customs man” by not declaring them. Most times they just waved me through the “green” This worked everywhere except a certain North American airport, where on at least three occasions, all of my luggage. complete with all my “finery”, was examined in minute detail. (Thank goodness in a private room!!).
With male clothes plus Caty’s and the “stuff” needed for work, she regularly had well over 30kgs of luggage. This led to comments such as
“You have enough luggage there for two”. Yes,.. well,… quite so…
OR. “All that travel must be a real drag”
Well yes, you could say that.
OR A business contact comes to my hotel room, comments on the mirror with all the globes around it. “Hey, that would be great for putting make up on”
Unanswered question? Was he “one of us” or did he guess/know about me?….I “ended the association” very shortly afterwards, (business matter, not the mirror). Come to think of it,
same city as the “Red Channel”, did he have a contact in Customs at the airport?? We will never know….
BAGS OF TROUBLE
The zip on my garment bag let go at an airport in Northern Europe. That was the compartment with all my “unmentionables”. (Including my forms and wigs….).Luckily “company policy” was to carry them all in plastic shopping bags. Cos all that could be seen was my garment bag and about six shopping bags merrily parading around the baggage carousel, in front of a plane load of people waiting for their bags.
A VERY quick “ baggage collection” ensued and I was out of that airport quicker than a 747 on take off….
”FLASHING BLUE MOON” YOU CAUGHT ME DRIVING ALONE!!
3/. Driving around Perth late one night dressed, imagining I’m Caty the “female rep” for my company. Up and down a couple of dark streets wasn’t smart, attracted the attention of “Perth’s finest”. Flashing lights, the works….Rule one when dressed. Dont drink alcohol;. Rule 2. Carry your drivers licence. 3/. Be polite to the nice constable. Nett result. “Think you should head back to your hotel now…… SIR…..”
Think film, “Just Like A Woman” Our hero/ine goes out on the town, gets pulled over by the cops, spends night in cells in his/her “finest”
Post Sept 11 2001,I’d “signed the (temporary) CD pledge”. Twice in 24 hours the Americans went through my luggage with a fine tooth comb. (Why me, do I look like a terrorist) Well at that stage probably so, , cos you had not used make up for eons, your wardrobe was a shambles and your wigs were bird’s nests.
So to just be the “normal” (sic)… me on that trip was a blessing…. (I could add the words, “in disguise…). But no, that’s pushing the metaphor a bit too hard…
CHAPTER 2 “I WUZ ROBBED”
Transformation Shop, Manchester UK, late ’80’s. Overnight stay organised, so is Caty. So I’m wandering around the shop with my “spare wallet”, with quite a few quid in it I might add. Put it down on the counter and get distracted for a few seconds. Another “punter” in the shop was far too quick for me, lost the lot… That took the edge off that stay as well…….Later years Transformation shot one of their early CD videos in the rooms above the shop. Brought back memories of my lost, “currency of the British realm”.
On one trip to an Australian capital I arranged to go to a dressing service, which, OK, offered “other services”. (Not that I “indulged” in same). So I’m all dressed and made up and having a nice time with the lady “assistant”, when suddenly this “nutter with a knife” bursts into the room looking for money.
Now even in “male mode” I could not fight my way out of a wet paper bag, so I had no hope of ever doing much whilst in “Caty mode”. So I just sat there calmly and handed over my wallet and he took off like a scalded cat..
OK, that got most of the “bodily harm” problem out of the way. But if the police got there before I got out of the place, I would have ended up a/. as a star witness in an armed robbery case and b/. divorced.
So off comes the clothes and make up and back into male mode and then I’m out on a busy main road circa midnight, with no money and desperately searching for a cab.
If “fortune favours the brave” (aka damn fool for going to this establishment in the first place), it sure did that night. I did manage to get a cab and I did manage to convince reception at my hotel to let me back into my room to pay the cabbie.
But I think I hid under the bed covers for about an hour after I got back to my room. Helped calm me down a bit.
Chapter 3/. MORE MASCARA, (if you don’t laugh you”ll cry) MESSERS
Early morning in a ladies recycle shop in Sydney. I’d written in advance and was welcomed by the owner. I’m in the changing room trying on a few dresses and she gets “invaded” by some “genuine” customers. Just as well I’d allowed PLENTY of time before I was due to do my first sales call for the day, cos they took what seemed liked at ETERNITY to leave the shop. Don’t remember if I bought anything, just leaving in a hell of a hurry.
I go to a very good East London dressing service with the objective of looking my best and then out to a trans friendly nightclub. I felt great and thought I looked the same. Before we left, the owner puts on a very long blonde wig, obviously her “disguise” for the night. Outside the club and on arrival, some passers by said “oh, look at that tranny”. My reaction?? They must be referring to “long blonde wig” beside me….
A long time Pommy tranny contact lines me up with his make up artist partner and off we head to the famous “Ron Storme’s” tranny nightclub in London. Again I’m looking and feeling great. Coffees at a late night caf afterwards at a tranny friendly place complete with Karoake. Two memories. “Christine” gets up and does (deep baritone?) Karoake to a song I still hear on the radio, but right now the title wont come to me. 2/. Another tranny joins us and tells me to improve my beard cover, cos its showing through my make up.
That deflated poor old Caty’s ego more than somewhat. With “compliments” like that it’s no wonder I “signed the pledge” for as long as I did. Tho I do recall a couple of “tranny admirers” eyeing me off that night. Did not know whether to be scared or flattered…
Early on in my CD travelling days I was befriended by a new North American client and ultimately invited to his home for dinner.
So I of course went to some trouble to buy a gift for my hosts, from memory I think it was a bottle of good Aussie wine. Trouble was, (HUGE “BBOOOOB” BBBOOOOO), I got my shopping bags a bit mixed up. Yes, the wine bottle was there but also in the bottom the bag was one of my first attempts to purchase some cheap foam falsies.
Somehow, we all got over this very “em BRA cing” (abb. embarrasing), moment and I kept in contact with this couple on many a trip afterwards.
Chapter 4/. FUNNY NOW, BUT NOT THEN!!!
Back in the mid 90’s I achieved a very long held ambition to stay overnight with Juliette at Sophie’s Dressing Service, then of Plymouth and one of the best of that ilk in the UK. Had a great time, (still got the photos to prove it).
Plan B after leaving there was to spend the day as Caty driving to my next accomodation down in Cornwall. About a four hour drive and a huge conundrum. Whilst I was wanting the “world” to see what a great job Juliette had done turning me into Caty, I was equally scared witless that someone would “spring”/aka clock, me.
It was supposed to be a “tranny friendly B&B”. Instead it was a dump of a place run by a very scary character whom when I arrived greeted me in the driveway in the “full disaster”, “external” S&M gear. Black everything, boots, full cape, hat, the works. The “accomodation” walls were covered in all manner of S&M posters and prints.
Needless to say I found this very unnerving and having paid in advance, got out of there ASAP next morning and as the “normal me” hightailed it to a “normal” hotel.
SCARY FUNNY II
On another trip, location, a North American town. Local CD group cajoles me out for dinner dressed. I was petrified, but starvation was the only other option. But I survived the night OK. Next day I’m “out on the road” with one of the local reps and it gets to lunch and he pulls into the same town. I thought, “if he takes me into the same restaurant, I’m gone”. Luckily no. Have the photos from then too. Really look like a man in a dress… But I improved as the years rolled by
SCARY FUNNY III
I made “penfriends”, (remember them?? “pre FB”, Facebook), with someone in a major northern capital city. So I went there for a dressing session one night. It all went well, until a/. this person became “tipsy” and b/. started making “untoward suggestions”. So I made a VERY quick change back to “me” and headed for my rental car. Opened the boot and this big “plus size” blighter promptly sat in it and refused to move…
I got him out… eventually and yes, that was another night of getting back to the safety of my hotel.
Happy (reading) and dsressing