Beverly's First Date
I had business meetings scheduled in Atlanta for the week of August 25th. Renée offered to take me out on a "date" Friday, August 29th. She said that two T-girls together is a dead give-away, but if she went in drab, then I stood a better chance of passing. So I told her that I would think about it and let her know. I spent several sleepless nights thinking about this momentous decision, and finally agreed to try it; if I didn't look presentable, then the outing was off. I had some major hurdles to overcome first, though. I had to get a pair of red flats. I hate flats, but I could not be taller than my date. Secondly, I am as blind as a bat, so I needed a pair of frames that were feminine. Lastly, I needed a good wig, as Renée rated my current wig a "B-." So, I needed to make three purchases that would require direct involvement of me with someone else and telling them that I'm TG.
The flats were fairly easy, I just stopped in Wal-Mart, picked out my size, and paid for them -- very impersonal. The next two items would be far more difficult. I contacted the Tri-Ess chapter in Atlanta to see if they could recommend any TG-friendly shops. Kerri Edwards fe-mailed me and recommended LensCrafters at Perimeter Mall for the frames and Juanette's First Impressions for the wig.
Sunday afternoon, I wandered into LensCrafters. The shop was very busy and there was a man in there making an asshole of himself. I was a little intimidated by the place. But I was going to try, I mean no one in Atlanta knows me, so here goes. I saw a woman who I thought would be more helpful than some of the men clerks, so I positioned myself to be waited on by her, letting several people go ahead of me. Well I told her I that I wanted a pair of feminine frames, and even showed her my picture so she could she could see the face that the frames were for. Her name was Debra and she was very helpful and patient, finding something that would work. They were not real girlish, but a style many girls are using today. An hour later I had my new glasses and could get my pulse rate back under 150!
The next major step was the wig. I had always wasted money on catalog wigs, so now I was going to meet someone who Kerri said most of the girls in Atlanta go to, but there is no mistake that the wig is for you. I called Juanette and setup an appointment for Tuesday afternoon. She has no store front and it is a second floor walkup at the end of a hallway, so it's very private. As I walked to her open door, she was on the phone, so I walked to the vending machine at the end of the hall just to get my nerves and breathing back under control. Then, with a deep breath, I walked in and introduced myself. She immediately brightened up and asked what I was looking for as far as style, length, and color. I told her I had no idea, I just wanted something that made me more convincing as a woman. I showed her a couple of pictures, and she was very complementary of then. She sat me down in a chair and for the next two hours, I tried on a dozen of wigs and purchased two. While sitting in the chair as she trimmed the bangs, I finally realized why women love going to the beauty parlor -- pampering. Juanette was like a big sister helping her younger sister get ready for a date (which she was). She made me feel totally at ease, and I can't say enough about her; she was far better than anything the Atlanta girls could convey.
Friday, August 29th, 1997. I met Renée at her motel room. We had another dressup party, each of us showing off our new wigs. At 5 PM, I began to get ready for the trip of my life, out beyond a locked door, and Renée returned to her boy-self. By 7:30, I must have asked for the tenth time, "Do I look okay?" Renée assured me that I did. With that, I picked up my purse and walked out into the hall. We rode the elevator to the main floor, walked out the side entrance, and I stepped into sunshine for the very first time. Renée was every bit the gentleman holding, the door for me. We went to Marra Seafood, which Renée said was a friendly place and had been there "dressed" herself. We drove up to the valet parking attendant and he opened the door for me. As we walked away the attendant said "You guys enjoy your meal." Guys. Guys? Had I been read already? My heart just went into overdrive. We walked inside and the hostess lead us thru the resturant to a booth. I could not keep my flats from making so much noise as we walked on the tile floor. Of course, I felt every eye on me as I walked by.
The wait staff was friendly and helpful, and Renée ordered for both of us (such a gentleman). I finally got calmed down. Renée kept talking, which put me at ease. I am sure that the couple at the next table kept staring in my direction, but I did not look back. I don't think I have ever smiled as much as I did that night. The meal was delicious, but I did not finish mine because I was so excited about everything and because my waist cincher was beginning to cut me into (I had never worn it that long before). The owner came by to check on the meal and we said it was great and he in turn said, "Beautiful." Now, I think he was referring to our enjoying his food, but Renée insisted that the complement was directed at me.
There was a funny incident that Renée related to me afterward. Evidently, I did calm down to the point that I forgot to modulate my voice. Renée said that the couple sitting behind me kept looking around to see where the strange voice was coming from. I'm glad she told me afterwards.
As with all good things, the meal came to an end, I again I felt every eye on me as we walked out, but I do remember that the bartender smiled at me. We went outside and waited with two other couples for the valet to bring the car around. Again the valet held the door for me and again he said, "You guys have a nice evening." Maybe everybody is "guys" to him. We drove around Atlanta for a while because I did not want the evening to end, but it had to. We went back into the motel, and Renée held the door to the room open for me. I went in and put my purse on the dresser, turned around, and found Renée standing behind me. She put her arms around me and looked at me for a moment, smiled, and kissed me. It wasn't one of those long, passionate kisses that you see in the movies. It was a solf and tender kiss. I had never felt so much like a woman as I did at that moment. Forty years of frustration and sorrow seamed to vanish. She then hugged me and whispered in my ear "Welcome to the world, Beverly."
The End ...no, "The Beginning"
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