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Eating Mexican in a Skirt

March 13, 2014


I recently visited a consignment store. The ladies working at the store were very helpful. They had me try on several outfits. One outfit impressed me. I decided to go back and buy it.

I left work (en drab, of course). I tried on the outfit. I asked the clerk if I could wear the outfit out of the store. She brought scissors and clipped my tags in the dressing room with me. I gathered up my courage and walked out of the dressing room.

A customer was in the store. She was about 55. She gave me a look and tried to maintain her pleasant expression. Then she went on shopping. I paid the clerk. While she was processing my order, I waited. There was a husband and wife in the other dressing room. I was hoping to hurry before he came out.

The older customer walked past me and tried to pay me no particular attention. I figured, she has already seen me, I should ask for her opinion. She responded, “You look great!” That’s my style of outfit!

The clerk gave me my change. I thanked her. She knew I was planning on going to a restaurant dressed like this. She told me, “Have fun!” with a big smile.

I drove to a Mexican restaurant that is pretty far from my house. I have eaten there once before in a skirt. I think I have gone there in ladies pants or shorts before too. I got there, gathered my courage, and walked in. I was wearing a black top, a dark but colorful knee length flowing skirt, nude hose, 2.5 inch black heels, and my man head. I looked pretty good, in my opinion.

I intentionally went to a late lunch to avoid any crowds. Only one table had diners. There were four men who were done eating and were just chatting. I was standing beside a table, so I don’t know how much of my lower half they could see. The most animated guy in the group was facing me and I think he noticed something unusual. The man who seated me did not seem to even notice my outfit. When I was seated, I looked over and saw that one of the men who had been seated with his back to me had turned my way. They went back to talking.

A different man took my order. My food came. With my heels on, I find that my knees are too high to cross my legs, so I sat as lady-like as I could and ate. Later, a couple other men came in and sat where they could not see me. I was not too terribly nervous. The big risk was over. I walked into a room with unknown people. No one who knew me was there.

I received my check and decided that I was going to have to stand up and go to the cash register no matter who saw me. So, I owned it as best I could and I paid my bill. I believe that the men became quiet while I stood there. I did not look their way. As I walked out, I turned back and made eye contact with the man who served me the first time I went there in a skirt. He gave me a friendly smile like he does every time he sees me.

It was a delightfully boring non-event.


From → True Stories

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