I went to Las Vegas on another
business trip - my first since the summer. Due to things going on at home,
I was very limited in what I could take with me on this trip. I took
my make-up and a wig with me, intending to at least get some practice and
improve my make-up skills ( I need all the help I can get!).
A girlfriend of mine was sure I'd go shopping while I was there and I did.
I found a Marshall's store, and I couldn't resist. I ended up buying a
blouse and a pair of shoes. The blouse is really neat in that it has an
elasticated bottom built in. Not easy to explain, but essentially a pair
of briefs sewn to the blouse so that it keeps the blouse pulled down tightly,
and stops it bunching up in back. It also really accentuates the bust,
which is not necessarily a good thing in my case.
- .
- On my last night in Vegas, I just
had to go out. I had my pair of women's jeans with me (I wear those frequently
in male-mode, and they are basically unisex). The overall look was definitely
going to be very casual, but that can be sexy in it's own way. I wore my
favorite leather jacket, very male looking, and used socks in the blouse
to give it some shape. Surprisingly, the overall effect was not at all
bad - if I say so myself. I felt the one area that let me down was the
hips. Without my Veronica hip pads, my hips looked very skinny, and definitely
more adolescent male than female. But I didn't have any choice but to go
with what I'd got.
- .
- Before I left for Vegas, I had
down loaded a list of T-friendly clubs, as recommended by a CD who lives
there. The club list didn't have a date on it, and I assumed, wrongly as
it turns out, that it was fairly recent. Anyway, I had three clubs on my
short list, and after summoning up enough courage to get out of the hotel
and into my rental car, off I went. I drove up and down Paradise Road (one
block east of the famous 'Strip'.) four times before I was convinced that
the spot where the first two clubs had been was now occupied by a large,
very new looking, 'Gordon Biersch' micro brewery.
- .
- So I was down to the last club
on my shortlist. It happened to be a gay bar called "Flex" and
was listed as quite classy. I found it easily and then immediately got
cold feet. "What was I doing?" I asked myself. "Out alone
and frequenting a gay bar?" I'd never been in a gay bar in my life
before. But I remembered my friend Alison saying that gay bars were one
of the few places she felt comfortable since you tended not to get bothered
there. So, I took a few deep breaths and in I went. There was a rather
serious guy, with tattoos and a shaved head, acting as bouncer on the door.
By the time I saw him, he'd seen me, and I couldn't very well turn around
and leave... I was committed.
- There was a $2 cover charge, and
the bouncer was very courteous. I had to find the two dollar bills, and
I realized that I definitely needed more practice at getting things
out of my purse; I looked and felt awkward. He didn't say anything
and let me pass and go inside. It was a real dive! And worst of all, I
was the only CD there (this was about 11:00pm). There were a bunch of guys
standing at a bar, drinking, and a couple of GG's at a table in a corner,
and that was it. The thought suddenly struck me that maybe this bar wasn't
gay anymore and I had just made a terrible mistake in entering. But no
one paid any attention to me and after about two minutes I had had enough
and decided to leave. The big guy at the entrance was surprised to see
me leave so soon, but he didn't say anything.
- .
- On the way back to the hotel I
had to stop to get petrol (before returning the rental car early the next
morning.) I found a Chevron station that took credit cards at the pump,
and then realized that I had not brought my credit card with me; only cash.
So I had to go up to the window and pay the cashier. The guy gave me a
long look and then lost interest and returned to watching his TV. Who knows
what he though. I couldn't tell if he read me or not. Either way it seemed
he didn't care. I found I was a little disappointed that I didn't evoke
more of a reaction. Ideally, of course, I'd know by his reaction (or lack
thereof) that I'd passed. But not knowing is frustrating. The rest of the
journey back to the hotel was uneventful. I had to hang around for a while
near the lifts, pretending to be talking on the phone. I was waiting
for an empty elevator since I still don't have the nerve/confidence to
get in really close confines with a bunch of people. Then I was back in
my room - in one piece. By that time it was almost one o'clock and I had
to catch an early flight. I hadn't even started packing. It was a very
late night, and needless to say, I was dead on my feet the next day.
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