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| Meg at the Museum. Ain't I cute? :D |
My GPS had problems finding the restaurant. I finally set it to the highest house number on the street and it said it would take 15 minutes.
Just before I put on my top, skirt, shoes, wig, and jewelry I checked google maps. It found the restaurant. It turns out the street name changes slightly as it leaves Tucson proper and it was actually about 30 minutes away. And it was now 30 minutes before I was to meet Liz and Erin. I packed everything up and finished getting dressed as quickly as I could.
I again walked out through an empty hall, into an empty elevator, through an empty lobby to my car. There wasn't even anyone behind the desk! I assume whoever is keeping an eye on me (I think she's also my muse) was keeping me out of harm.
The drive to the restaurant was uneventful and Liz and Erin were waiting outside for me. After introductions, smiles, and hugs we went inside.
I was treated as a lady just as much as the other two were. We chatted our way through breakfast and eventually decided we needed to move on if we were going to do anything else that day. Erin knows way more about aircraft than any ten people I know, but she had never been to the local air museum. I like aircraft, and I have been to several air museums: two near DC, the Intrepid in New York, Wright-Patterson (Ohio), Warner-Robbins (Georgia). I figured this was a local museum, good for an hour or two.
As we were about to get into our cars, Erin received a phone call. While she was yapping, I decided it might be better for me to use the ladies' room here rather than at the air museum. Liz offered to accompany me; she knows I'm a bit worried about using the restroom. I decided I needed to solo, so I did.
Some housekeeping: Please consider going to a Transgender Day of Remembrance event this coming weekend. I'll be at the Fairfax event (alas, in drab, unless something amazing happens).
Also Joan who commented yesterday ~ drop me a note, OK?
Why wouldn't you be treated as a lady at breakfast, as you look very much the part in the pictures you've been sharing the last few days. I would venture to say that it is much more about deportment than anything else. Your taste in clothing appears to say to the outside world, "I'm a classy woman, so treat me like one."
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