Yesterday I was out shopping, and had only two stops to make. One was at the Post Office to buy some stamps. Since Wifey is comfortable with my wearing housedresses around the house, but not “out and about,” it was time to do a quick change. I threw on the first thing I found – dark stirrup pants, a long mockneck tunic, sweater, and ballet flats without pantyhose…substantially like the below archive photo:
Needless to say, “the joint was hopping” when I arrived, and I had to stand in line for service. Distanced, and masked, of course…. Several women were chatting and they appeared to be in line. So I asked “Ladies, are you in line?” Without so much as a concern about my gender, one of them looked at me and said “No Ma’am, we’re not. Feel free to go around us.” “Thank you so much, Miss (she appeared to be in her twenties.). And they kept on talking…
When I finally got to the counter, the clerk (who knows me but couldn’t avoid hearing my conversation with the women) asked “Good morning. May I help you, Ma’am?” Wow. I wasn’t even trying to “pass” today! (But, the true test will be whether he continues identifying me as female! We can hope…)
But wait, there’s more.
One additional stop was needed: the hardware store. Once inside, I didn’t know where the product I wanted was located. So I inquired, and the 20something male clerk said “Ma’am, go to aisle five and it’s on the bottom shelf right side.” “Thanks, Sir.” But I walked right past the product. He saw that I was having trouble finding it…I heard him call “Ma’am!” I respond quickly to feminine forms of address…”Yes, Sir?” “Here they are, Ma’am” and he put the product in my hand. “Thank you so much…I walked right past it! If it were a snake, it would have bit me!” “Let’s both be glad it wasn’t, Ma’am! Now you have a wonderful day.” “You too, Sir!”
The fun wasn’t over yet. A female clerk not connected with the above said in passing: “Thanks for shopping with us, Ma’am.” “You’re welcome, hon.” And at the checkout counter – “I’ll take care of you over here, Ma’am.” I gave her my account number, and she asked me if I was (insert my male name – which is now females only). “Yes, that’s me, Ma’am.” When she handed me back my credit card, I made sure my pink fingernails were visible.
She noticed. “I love your manicure, dear. My nails are too plain (she spread her hands/fingers out), and I don’t wear polish…I should keep them as nice as yours. If I might ask, where do you have them done?” I told her, and she said “If I went in and asked for then to do mine ‘just like you do Miss _________’s nails’, would they be able to duplicate them?” Since I’m Miss _______ to the girls at the salon, I replied “I think so. Just make sure you specify manicure – my pedicure is so much different”. I slipped out of my ballet flats and she looked over the counter – and loved it. “Black is for winter – I wear white all summer with my sandals!” “I’m sold, Miss _________! I’ll stop by soon.”
People had showed up in line, so our girl talk session had to end. And I slipped back into my shoes. But it was fabulous!
Now to await the next surprise…