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Eating Out and a Short Conversation

April 10, 2016

4/5/2016

I have a new outfit and I am still exploding with love for it.  I changed into it for a lunch outing and went to a Japanese restaurant.  I put on a brown top, a somewhat wild patterned skirt, nude and rather high heels, and nude pantyhose.  As usual, I presented male otherwise.

I drove to a restaurant rather far from where I normally go.  It was a Japanese fast food restaurant in a strip mall.  (A strip mall is a long building with a several stores in it.)  There were very few cars in the parking lot in front of the restaurant.  I assumed that there would be only two customers in the restaurant.

There were nine customers in the restaurant.  As soon as I entered, one woman who was sitting alone near the entrance looked right at me and gave me a very friendly smile.  There were two men dressed in paint-covered clothes.  They worried me.  There was also one other man who was well dressed who did not worry me.  The rest of the customers were women.

Other than one of the painters turning around to look at me after his partner told him about me, no one paid me any significant attention.

I ordered my food at the front counter and then walked to the back of the restaurant where the utensils, drinks, and condiments counter was located.  I forgot my cup at the counter.  I got my napkins and fork, but I decided I would get my drink later.  I was not comfortable enough with how I walk in these shoes and with the two painters looking at me to go back to the front counter.

I sat at a table near the smiling woman’s table.  She and I exchanged silent greetings as I seated myself.  We never spoke.  I waited for my order.

Once my order was ready, I walked to the counter and received my food from the Japanese woman.  As I walked up to her, she got a good look at me.  I took my tray of food and my cup and walked back to the drink station.  I had to walk back past those painters while wearing those heels.  I did it, and I did fine.

I sat down and started eating.  Customers left and customers arrived.  I relaxed.  The painters left.  One made eye contact with me.  I gave a manly nod.  He looked away.  I felt much more relaxed once they were gone.

When the smiling lady got up to leave, she told me to have a nice day.

The woman from the counter came into the dining area to wipe tables.  She started at the smiling woman’s table.  I made eye contact with her and said that the food was good.  She looked at my shoes and asked me, “How tall are those?”  I shrugged.  I said, “I don’t know, maybe 4 inches.”  I’m a bit ashamed of them.  I feel like they are showy and might look fetishistic.  But I just think they are beautiful.  She responded, “I envy you.  My feet hurt after just wearing these all day.”  She was wearing slightly wedged, non-fashionable, working shoes.

I thanked her for the food.  I went to the drink center again to refill, and I left.

A woman told me, a man in a skirt and heels, that she envied his ability to wear high heels.  I am somewhat shocked by this!  I am definitely considering going back to this restaurant.  …but probably in flats.

Here is a picture of the skirt and shoes.

wildskirt

UPDATE:
I went back to the restaurant a week later.  I wore an orange skirt, white top, navy cardigan, and white, canvas, flat, casual shoes.  At the counter, the same woman took my order.  Her first words to me were, “Did you wear heels again today?”

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From → True Stories

2 Comments
  1. Anonymous permalink

    That outfit is really pretty; just a great pattern, beautiful colors, and the heels are exactly as you said to the woman at the counter. What a fantastic experience! My dressing adventures are so lame by comparison. Thanks for the inspiration.

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. “You didn’t wear a skirt.” | joeypress

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