Back at the Hotel

After I returned to the hotel, I did not want to change back.  In the past, I've come back to my room and started to remove my makeup and clothes and shower pretty soon after.  Then it's drab (if it's early) or my nightie (if it's not).

The last couple of times, I didn't.

As I mentioned, I really wanted to stay dressed forever after flying pretty and my Dinner with Dana.  This time, I just didn't want to change.  First, I didn't want to change to go out; now I didn't want to change back.  I did kick off my shoes, but I wasn't sure what to do next.  I ate in my room, as Meg, when I arrived in Topeka and Richmond.

But I'd already eaten and shopped and my heels were starting to ask to be removed.

But I didn't want to change.  It wasn't the exhilaration I felt after Dinna with Dana, but I just felt... I don't know.  Good?  Right?  Comfortable?  Pretty?  I don't know.

After about a half-hour I decided to grab a snack.  I still wasn't particularly hungry, but I thought I'd like a snack and they have a little snack area near the front desk.

I decided to change before I went down.

So I removed my dress and carefully hung it up.  Then I put on my top and skirt.  Then I slipped my shoes back on.

I considered just carrying money and my key to the desk, but instead I emptied my purse except for some money and my key.  I walked the length of the (empty) hallway, rode the elevator down to the (mostly empty) lobby.

When I first checked in, and when I came in Monday evening, I saw the same woman behind the counter.  She was maybe 40, not at all my type but very friendly and a bit flirty and I returned the mood.  I was hoping she'd be at the desk when Meg came in.  I might have reminded her that she checked me in.  I might not have.

When Meg came in, there was a guy, about 25 or so, at the desk.  He looked up and gave a very friendly "hel-LO."  It turns out he always does that, but it doesn't matter, does it?  Either he's being extra-friendly to an older woman (cool) or he's being friendly because I'm a person worthy of respect no matter how I'm dressed.  I said hello back, and said "how are you?" and responded when he returned the question.

The same man was there.  I was hoping the woman would be there.  I briefly considered heading back to my room, but if I'm going to be an out-of-the-closet female, I kind of have to interact with men, don't I? 

I walked past the front desk (he wasn't looking up) and I picked out an ice cream bar.  I said "excuse me" to get his attention and get that same "Hel-LO."  I wonder if he thought it odd that I changed my clothes.  I wonder if he thought crossdressers just like to change clothes.  I wonder if he thought I spilled something on my dress and had to change.  I wonder if he noticed me at all, really, when I came in.  Fifty-year-old women are mostly invisible, especially to younger men.

I wondered a lot of things, but I really didn't care.  If I can't read his mind or ask what he thought, I really don't care.  After every interaction, I do want to ask "so when did you know?" but I never know if I can expect an honest answer.  And I can only hope for a "when did I know what?" and be disappointed by any other answer.  So I really don't care.  But I do wonder.

One little mistake: I made a phone call before going to the lobby.  When I'm on the phone, I remove my left earring so it doesn't get in the way of the phone.  I forgot to put it back on.

After returning from the lobby, I ate my ice cream, did some organising, did some reading, answered my mail, made a few phone calls, and stayed Meg until shower time when changed into my nightgown.

It was a good evening.  It was a really good evening.

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