‘Life’s a bitch’
By Julie D Cole
Synopsis : this is a story about a hard working guy who has feminine features who suddenly finds his hard work has been to no avail. The first chapter is in the immediate present and explains the circumstances in which he finds himself after he decides 'life is a bitch' and steps into a bitches shoes. The following chapters will fill in some background and when his chance for revenge comes, out of the blue, he has a decision to take and then he has to decide how far he is prepared to go if he is to succeed. Would you step into a bitches shoes, given the chance and if you found it was something enjoyable as well as filled with risk.
Who knows what we would do if such a situation arose. Is life better as a bitch I wonder? Let's see.
Lifes a bitch sometimes. There are all sorts of ways to tackle this bitch but I never meant for things to get so out of hand.
I’d lost my job. I’d lost the love of my life. My mum wasn’t talking to me. My best friend was really pissed off with me. My flatmate probably had a hit out on me by now and I’d reached a point where in a few days time I was likely to be homeless. Back home up North to mum? ‘No way Hose.’ Not that there is anything wrong with the North of England except I’d have failed in mums eyes and my school friend eyes in trying to cross the North-South divide.
When things spiral downwards they do so at an alarming rate so in such a short time I was feeling desperate. I felt sure what was happening to me was scripted by someone who’d seen the film Trading Places.
Considering how low I’d felt and how my life had turned ‘tits up’ and had then been this last week I felt amazingly smug. Well I guess more feeling happy really. I stretched out as far as I could and curled the tips of my fingers around the headboard. Was this real? Was this me or what? Had I been projected into a parallel world?
I scrunched my toes up in the crisp white cotton sheets that had found the way to the foot of the bed. I felt so nice. Everything was still, everything was calm and I guess it was clear that I was smiling having just realised what an afterglow feeling is like. I blinked as I stared across to the large window that was filled with sun-light. The breeze was blowing the fine net curtains and introducing welcome fresh air to the room after the previous nights and aabecause as the sun shone through the window.
Somewhere across the room I heard a phone beep. But instead of jumping up to find it and answer it and who needed what and how quickly could I get it for them I decided to let it ring. It sounded like a phone in silent mode but I wasn’t likely to set mine at silent.
I listened instead to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom and pressed my lips together to refresh the tingling sensation before it faded away. The stubble burn that tickled my cheeks was much more stubborn. I liked it. I was so happy.
My best friend was wrong. ‘Everything was going to be fine.’ Somehow I’d got over many obstacles this last week and now I was feeling = yes everything seemed to be just fine.
Yes for sure if just two weeks ago someone had predicted what was ahead of me I would have just laughed in disbelief. Life can be a merry go round and when things get bad it’s hard to turn them around. You have to be pretty tough and look seriously at your options. Look for support, if it’s there and if not just believe in yourself. Let’s face it none of us know how strong or how weak or vulnerable we are until life takes a swipe at us. I thought I was invincible and I’d spent my life setting goals that I achieved. Some of us don’t know how far we’d go until we are in there fighting to get out of the mire. .
The phone beeped again.
I ignored it again because now I felt hat everything was going to turn out nice again like it usually did for me. I was feeling pretty good, despite the effects of the booze, after a wonderful evening that ended up turning into a fantastic night like I could never have dreamed of. I was pretty pleased with myself not to have been found out. At least as far as I could tell I hadn’t. So not only had I duped Vanessa’s agent but her client too and her supposed associate who obviously now thought he’s finally bedded her. I felt I must have satisfied him and it certainly seemed so as I heard him singing to himself.
Now all I had to do was to make it to the bathroom when he’d finished and hopefully we’d have brunch together before parting as two completely satisfied business colleagues.
So the interview and the publicity photos were well progressed and everything seemed great. Hopefully our client was happy, my employer was happy and would be paying in a lump sum in cash and the rest to the Company account. No telling what reaction that would bring when Vanessa realised she’d missed out on a great trip plus a night with a stallion. All her men were stallions according to her and certainly I could see what she meant. Now I could spend the rest of the day reliving some of the things I’d done with this terrible man and just a few hours of catch up to finish the job. By tomorrow night I’d be finished in Hong Kong and the following day I’d be on my way home with cash to my pockets and could drop Vanessas things back before she missed them. So not only a cash bonus but a double whammy. I’d been laid for the first time.
Rolling over onto my stomach I was very glad I couldn’t see the state of myself. My long hair was all tangles and my carefully applied make-up was now smudged and lots deposited over the pillow cases. Let’s face it many a woman must have woken like this and post sex or post orgasmic smugness can’t be a good look on any body that made me feel more comfortable.If I had seen me right now I might have wanted to punch me. Not that post-orgasmic anything was a look I was terribly familiar with. Well the bad hair and the terrible make-up yes but the smug and just shagged rotten look was something that a woman might feel rather than me. I’d just been taken by a handsome man and now I feared for his reaction. Who would ever believe it. Yet it wasn’t a bad experience was it or wrong to let someone believe what they thought they were doing is it? Surely I hadn’t got away with it.
If there was one thing I realised now it was how women must find it a challenge to get through a long passionate session without a guy sandpapering the top three layers of your skin on your face and in my case how to escape before my own light stubble started to fight back.
Three more beeps.
No matter how hard I tried to ignore it my phone wasn’t giving up.With a tiny sad sniff I was going to answer the bloody thing but it wasn’t on the night stand where I’d left it because it wasn’t my night stand. I’d no idea where it was hiding. The beautiful red silk Valentino dress was on one side of the room, my bra on the other. Somewhere in the middle was a white shirt and a beach towel and from deep inside a pile of mens clothes, none of which were mine, another phone started to ring in time with mine.Screw you Vodaphone. Is there no chance of some post sex peace and quiet or chance to think how to escape this situation. After all we had both been very drunk and him more than me. Maybe he hadn’t twigged. Maybe he was so taken with me that he believed he had made love to me.
“Vanessa”
I watched the huge bamboo fan on the ceiling spinning around and tapped out the rhythm of the phones, making no effort to answer them or the man in the bathroom.
“Vanessa”
Oh right that was me. Well sort of.
“Yeah I sort of shouted back in as high a pitched voice as I could muster with a through that was as dry as the Sahara desert. I needed some water not only for lubrication but to help with the feeling of de-hydration having consumed so much wine and vodka. He had consumed much more than me in his attempts to get into my pants and like most girls in these circumstances I’d put up a long show of resistance before I’d capitulated. He was one good looking guy and my friend Amy would have killed for the opportunity. What a wonderful experience and so different to what I’d ever imagined. Amy was right. A man can enjoy sex but a woman lives it and gets the greater satisfaction. If I had all the equipment I just wondered how I’d be feeling right now. This was so wonderful as it was and yet so dangerous. Surely he knew?
But how could he since many a girl must have given their guy a great time without full penetration. How many more times did he expect to ejaculate in one night before there was nothing left in the tank? Completely empty as far as I could recall and as soft as a marshmellow with hardly a twitch of reaction by the time I’d finished with him. I was just surprised he had the energy to get out of bed and take a shower with no real time for recovery. I doubted I’d be able to walk comfortably and no chance to run away even if I wanted to.
“Yeah” I shouted back ensuring my knickers were still intact and looking for something to cover my man boobs so they did at least look like a full chest as they’d done the night before when I’d finally created the look I’d strived for this last few months. Not quite set of 38’s but as tender and soft as any girls I’d seen or tried to fondle in my clumsy attempts to be one of the guys at the back of the school changing rooms. Recently I’d enjoyed many an evening massaging my chest to try to stimulate growth and softly stroking my nipples so that they learned to stand to attention at the slightest touch and stay erect long enough to catch attention.
These were all mine and I wanted to keep them. Last night for the first time I’d enjoyed the experience of a mans massage and lips and tongue stimulation from a leading expert. I looked down to see how the whiskers had left their evidence and how I seemed to have nipples twice as big as the day before. I needed more treatment like this and who knows what results might come.
Ooh they did feel a little sore and very tender. I needed to sooth them somehow when he eventually came out of the bathroom. Maybe a nice warm bath would help and perhaps I’d find some cream. I needed to carry some nipple cream or Vaseline nowadays if this carries on and if I am going to be comfortable in this guise.
‘Come on man I’m bursting for a pee. Never mind the bloody phone stop preening in there you can’t be that good looking.
‘The door opened and there he stood semi naked and looking as fresh as a daisy. Shining from tip of his thingy to the top of his head and all the way down to his toes. He was obviously pleased to see me and it wasn’t just the smile on his face that gave him away.
‘Stop please I need a pee. Don’t go away, I’ be right back. Hang on to what you’ve got if you can until I freshen up a little. My mouth tastes like a birdcage bottom.’
In truth I need to get out of his direct eyeline because try as I did with one arm covering my new found bust and my left hand covering my own morning attempt at an erection I was in danger of being recognised as a complete fraud. Well at least one now who’d given a guy a good time.
I sta down to relieve myself that seemed to be the natural thing to do in the circumstances. It seemed like I was filling the pan and I never produced such a torrent before. The relief was almost as good a feeling as I’d had last night as we climaxed together. Me the first time for months and him for the third or forth time in that one session. Wow what a catch he was for somebody. Erect at the touch of his buttons [his zip really] or the nibble of his ear or even a squirt of perfume. That had been money well spent at duty free. I think he went into a reverie and didn’t understand that he’d been so infatuated with me and so excited with my massage treatment that he thought he’d actually penetrated me. Well he did to some extent but lucky for me not so far to cause pain and for him enough to explode. Not once but we did it at least 2 more times as well as the hand treatment. I stopped short of mouth to thingy resuscitation since he finally crashed out and so did I.
But I was suffering now and as the suds rose like fluffy clouds I whipped of the nicks and sunk gently into the water.
Oh it was bliss. Enough oils and beauty soaps to make me tempted to take up this life on a permenant basis. Why do women have this wonderful life? Where do men go wrong.
There was a tap on the door and I sunk a little deeper and a head popped around.
‘Sorry babe that was a call from Sage and I have to meet her for coffee and prepare for this afternoons shoot. Can you manage lunch with us? There is a card on the coffee table with the address of the Correspondents club. . Just sign in as my guest if we are late. Say about 1pm OK.
‘Wait what about him down there? Did he disappear? Thank goodness he had and I’d managed to avoid any embarrassment.
‘No he’s ‘AA’ for you babe.’
‘What — I mean pardon?’
‘AA-Always Available. Sorry I’ve got to run but as a peace offering why not not pop downstairs and treat yourself in the salon. Just ask angito add it to the bill..’
With that he was off and so much to my relief I could now relax and sort myself out with no fear of embarrassment so I turned on the hot tap and disappeared into the fog. ‘Whoopee’
‘Ooh that hurts. They’re so sore. But it’s so nice.’
‘to be continued…..
‘Life’s a bitch’ — Chapter 2
By Julie D Cole
Reminder : The intro chapter described the author waking up after a heavy night and finding that he/she had slept with a colleague with whom he/she had accompanied on an assignment in Hong Kong. her colleague was taking a shower whilst he/she was disturbed by a mobile telephone ringing. It was apparent she'd done the sex thing but not the penetration that was impossible. But he/she had satisfied him and either accepted him/her or he/she had fooled him. Why? Read on.
Well I guess that now I should introduce myself and explain how I came to be in this situation. Let me just go back 2 weeks to what started out as an exciting Monday morning as I left for work, having been invited to meet the Head of HR department, following confirmation of a promotion that was long overdue. Recognition at last! This would mean a significant salary increase and reward for all the hard work I’d put in these last 3 years whilst colleagues fluttered around making mistakes.
In our office I seemed to do my own jobs plus theirs sometimes and it was always me working late at night or weekends and bank holidays to meet important deadlines. Well that’s how it felt and as a result I had the satisfaction of being involved in some very successful campaigns.
I dressed as smart as I could that morning to create the right impression. Well as smart as a ‘red headed’ northern England guy [of Irish descent] can dress who doesn’t even own a business suit or possess a set of smart shirts and ties. All unnecessary expense from my point of view since ‘smart’ was always difficult and luckily it is optional in my profession.
My excuse had always been that when you spend half your life at a computer desk or on the telephone or around a table in meetings or interviewing people then comfort attire mattered more than image. My friends were always threatening to take me in hand. Anyway if the female staff can dress casually why not the rest of us?
After a bit of consultation with friends and colleagues I’d been persuaded it would be better if I could try to present a better image than for the last three years since that hadn’t got me recognised. Except as dogsbody and to sweep up other peoples crap. So first job was to soften the colour of my hair so I bought some ‘Wash & Go’ sachets rather than go mad with a permanent dye. Fortunately it doesn’t do what it says on the label and after I washed it I still had hair.
Well joking apart it had an effect but it did look a bit feminine so I ought to have been more bold and gone darker. It didn’t help matters since I take after my mother rather than my father for my mop. She always had beautiful healthy hair and is a striking redhead who is proud of her Irish upbringing in Cork. Anyway I was now more towards a reddish auburn shade rather than the plain brown colour on the packet.
Mum encouraged me to grow my hair long from an early age and fought against the various school teachers who placed me under detention. Yes life has been different for me than other boys. Redheads do stand out in a crowd even if they are small in stature. Who was the little guy who trained National Velvet. Well luckily I don’t look like him. I’m taller and quite slim like mum. Lucky not to be like dad with his sixteen pack. I
I used to get picked on at school as boys tried to de-bag me to see if I had red hair below. It was a bit embarrassing sometimes in front of the girls in my class. Hence I got a lot of ribbing in my developing years and it was no use complaining to mum because she had faced her own battles at school. Still I concluded it was better to have my mum’s hair than dads. Who wants a solar panel later in life?.
So for my meeting with HR and then my first day in my new job I decided I’d look as mature as possible and opted for a more conservative look. I called at Marks & Spencer [really old styles] and bought a shirt and black trousers and a tie that I quickly discarded after I saw someone wearing one like it. I looked 5 years older but decided the hair was too much. So I tied it back into a pony tail. The trousers were a bit tight in the crutch because I had to buy a small waist size and my voice was squeaking a bit as a result. Too late now though I should have tried them on when I bought them.
In hindsight I looked a bit on the girly side but I was meeting Jaqui Brennan and she was a bit butch anyway so I decided to go for it. I opted for a lightweight rainproof jacket and my favourite pair of Chelsea boots to keep out the wet since it had rained heavily overnight. Quite unusual for heavy rain in London but at least it freshened up the pavements.
I had to jump to avoid being splashed by a council truck cleaning the gutters. Why pick today of all days to clean our road. It never gets cleaned and I was sure the driver tried to sneak up on me to wet me through. I arrived OK but then the day went downhill from there and I’ll tell you more in a minute.
Over that weekend I’d been really happy and celebrated with my friends. I thought everything was starting to go really well for me and for 2 weeks since the final interview and ‘the nod’ I was feeling at last that my decision to move to London was paying dividends. Promotion at last and chance to boast to my friends who’d all done well whereas I’d stood still.
Anyway there I go again going off the point. My name is Michael O’Connor of Irish parents from the beautiful city of Cork where I was raised until we moved 25 years ago. My father said he moved for his job as a specialist consultant but really I was being bullied a lot because I had my mums red curly hair that she insisted was nut kept short like other boys at school. I was seven years old when we arrived at our new home in Yorkshire. I guess I stood out from day 1 because of my hair and the soft Cork accent was completely different from the dulcet tone of that for this part of the North of England,
I seemed to be accepted and that was no doubt because I had my father’s wit and quick retort with something funny to lighten any situation. So much so that my best friend Charlie and his twin sister Amy who seemed to adopt me from day 1 in school and so I was protected from any of the bullies girls or boys. Yes we had girls who were bullies too and I was singled out by a group of them who would call me Michelle that was a name that sort of stuck all through school and even into university at York. I kept in close contact with both Charlie and Amy even though Charlie went to London and Amy went to Birmingham.
We all ended up in London less than 3 years after graduating and I shared a flat with Amy rather than Charlie as mum expected. I had told her I was sharing with Charlie but he was having the time of his life and a girlfriend had moved in with him. He had a regular turnaround of girlfriends and a few who had moved in before he got bored and moved them out. They always stayed friends with him though.
It meant I got to know quite a few of Amy’s friends but none seemed to be too interested in me although they said they found me quite funny. I was the butt of a lot of Irish jokes though and a few of them invited me to parties that I attended when I could. That is when I wasn’t being a bore and trying to hit a deadline or cover for somebodies mistakes.
Amy and I always found ways to earn enough cash to pay the rent and have a good time. We used to meet up with a gang of her friends and sometimes we’d busk outside the Crusting Pipe in Covent Garden. I could sing well enough as long as the notes weren’t too high and two of Amy’s friends could really play the violin. A guy would turn up with a double base and if we were lucky we’d have a Drea on the keyboard. If we’d drunk too much wine we’d end up doing Irish dancing but there was a danger we’d be banned if we went overboard. Covent Garden is my favourite part of London where all types of people congregate. There is a buzz and you can sit and watch the world go by, have a laugh and join in or paint yourself as a statue and hang around all day doing nothing.
I can recommend it for an afternoon or on a summers evening. We’d watch street artists and acrobats and share a bottle of wine watching budding opera singers and musicians play in the natural auditorium outside the Crusting Pipe that is a pub type restaurant inside one of the old market buildings. Funny but after a while I was accepted by Amy’s friends as if I went to the same university. They wouldn’t worry about the subject matter and I’d hear accounts of all sorts of exploits hat almost turned my hair white. How awful first red and then white hair.
So what of Charlie? He had done well in a publicity company as a graphic designer and when he saw I wasn’t getting anywhere in my dead end job as a publicity assistant he helped to fix up a job for me through his friends as an assistant journalist where my ability to chat and university degree were useful. I started at the bottom and after 3 years here I was already pretty high up in the organisation somewhere just above the bottom rung.
So back to Monday morning. There I was sitting in front of Ms Brennan with a smile on my face and expecting to be handed a confirmation letter for my promotion and the salary increase.
‘Now then Michael, thanks for coming in for this meeting. It’s not good news I’m afraid since the Company has had cut costs and move people around and sadly you are not needed anymore.’
‘What? I have just been offered a promotion so what happened to the special assignment and the team that were going to be reporting to me.’
‘It’s not for me to disclose that information but that team has been disbanded before it started and the people will report to Vanessa Philips from today.’
‘Vanessa? She is never in the office and I take over most of her assignments. She is only interested in the trips and jobs where she can have fun with clients or our photographers I’ve nothing against her but she hates to be stuck in the office.’
‘Look Michael there is no point arguing the decision is made and you can take today to tidy up and handover to Vanessa and then come to my office tomorrow morning and we’ll sort out the final settlement. It will be two weeks’ salary and we’ll pay you any holidays you have accrued.’
‘Two bloody weeks’ pay after the way I’ve sweated. You must be joking. Tell me it’s a set up and that you’re joking.’
‘No it’s not a joke and of course if I can I will ensure that we give you a good reference.’
‘But this is all crap. I’ve been promoted and was promised a salary increase. I turned up today to finalise the adjustment to my terms and conditions. All my colleagues and friends have been really chuffed. What will I tell mum after she was so delighted? What will I do after the 2 weeks’ pay has gone? I still have to pay off my Uni loans and I don’t have any spare cash because of the rent I pay. You know my salary has been below the rest of the team. Even new starters can earn as much as me if their face fits. Come on please. I owe my flatmate for outstanding rent and other stuff.’’
‘Sorry Michael that’s it I’m afraid. We don’t need you anymore.’
So that was it I went back to my desk rather than be escorted to a new office. What really pissed me off was that the news was common knowledge and Vanessa was nowhere to be found. As usual she’d disappeared.
Her phone rang as I sat staring out of the window wondering what to do.
‘Piss off she’s not here as per usual. Probably still shagging somebody somewhere. Call back on Wednesday when she is satisfied!’
In the end I picked it up as usual.
‘Hi is that Vanessa.Philips?’
I didn’t answer.
‘Vanessa this is Tracey. Richards. We need someone urgently. It’s a freelance cash job all expenses paid. Can you work it into your schedule we need someone to accompany one of our lead journalists to draft out an interview with Monte Madison and we’ll send a photographer along as well. You can make it I hope. There is five grand cash up front in it to cover flights and hotel etc. Its only for 5 days if you can make it.
Where exactly? It’s in Hong Kong but you have to be in Hong Kong on Sunday. If you like you can stay at Montes place with the others or just book a hotel. How about it?
I looked around the office. Five grand? Five Grand?
‘OK I can make it where shall I pick up the expenses and the assignment details?’
To be continued……
‘Life’s a bitch’ — Chapter 3
By Julie D Cole
Background : After the intro chapter describing current events in Hong Kong where michael awakes from a night of passion with a 'male' colleague the previous chapter gave the background of events leading up to his trip to Hong Kong. It explained how Michael was thrilled to be promoted and suddenly found that instead of taking on new responsibilities with financial benefit he was to be discarded and made redundant. Worse than that he was being passed over for Vanessa who he often baled out and who was taking advantage of the Company. whilst in shock Michael answered a call to Vanessas desk and was mistaken for her resulting in him being offered a moonlighting assignment by an agency that used other Companies employees with payments in cash and with chance of other benefits 'in kind.' stupid mistake requiring explanation of mistaken identity or chance to seek revenge? Well you would do the same in his/her shoes wouldn't you?
I was surprised at my own reaction. Surely I wasn’t so desperate for the sake of five thousand pounds. I almost blurted out that this wasn’t Vanessa it was me. I’m not even a woman so why did she think it was Vanessa and what on earth was this about. Was Vanessa working freelance on the side?
I didn’t get chance to say anything anyway. to ‘You can collect from my PA. She’ll have the job briefing and the cash advance ready for you by 2pm if you stop by. I’ll be in the City for an appointment so I’m not available. Can you get away for a few days?’
She must be working for herself in Company time and small wonder I had to bale her out so often. She wasn’t dizzy after all, just busy feathering her own nest. Yet I was redundant and she was taking over my department. I wanted to tell this woman it wasn’t Vanessa and I cleared my throat to try to speak in a deeper voice. I guess she’d not picked up that she was speaking to someone else and that I was not even the same sex. Did she know Vanessa? Was this a hoax?
‘Err look, there is a problem here I think….’..’
‘Come on Vanessa make your mind up I’m in a hurry. Things to do, people to see honey. Do you want the job or not?’
‘Er yes, I do but..’
‘But what. Come on please. I’m stuck and if you want to keep on our register you can’t pick and choose. You have to take a few sicky days or leave and keep this confidential. I can get into trouble just like you if anybody finds out I’ve taken this assignment through my own company.’
That made up my mind. Why should I worry I’d been kicked out and if the the swines think Vanessa is better than me then they deserve everything that comes to them.
‘Sorry Tracey. Yes I’m OK but I’m in a bit of a difficult situation just now since I can’t get to your office yet I’m just going out myself to meet a client. He’s a bit of a hunk so I’m sure you understand. I don’t want to miss the chance of a bit of excitement on a Monday afternoon after the weekend I’ve had. You know how it is.’
‘Well Vanessa you’ll certainly do well for us if you like to mix a bit of pleasure with work and I don’t blame you. If you got it dear then flaunt it,that’s what I say. But you need to sort out the collection since I don’t have time. Are you OK since you sound off colour.’
‘Sorry my throat is a bit sore today you know how it is dear. Some guys just won’t be satisfied with regular sex. Sometimes you have to finish them and last night it was a bigger job than I expected.’
‘Oh My God. Vanessa dear you’ll have to tell me all about it when we meet. Spare me the details for now and we’ll arrange to meet up when you are back. I have my eye on a couple of young guys in the office who need breaking in. Look I gotta run so what do you suggest. Can you send anybody around?’
I thought about my options and to hell with it. I knew what to do. ‘look let’s make it a bit later and I might drop around myself but can your PA send the details to a reliable friend in the office and he’ll let me know.’
So within 10 minutes the address and contact details came to my computer and I acknowledged.
I sat back and thought about what had happened. Did she really think she was talking to Vanessa? I turned to Jacqui who had been listening and knew there had been some sort of mix up. She was smiling.
‘She thought I was Vanessa and you wouldn’t believe what the bitch is up to. I don’t have a high pitched voice do I.’
‘A bit on the high side but it happens.’
‘But she had no doubt for some reason. How strange.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about it but it’s not a surprise if you were connecting with a guy last night. I didn’t realise you were into men.’
‘Jacqui I made it up. It seems our Vanessa is not only moonlighting but she is enjoying herself. I might have made her sound worse than she really is but she needs a lesson or too.’
‘Well just be careful’.
I tidied up my things into a cardboard box and looked around. Vanessa had left her business cards and company security badge and tag. For some reason I put them in the box and then said my goodbyes, handed in my badge and tag and headed home.
No thanks or special fuss despite all that I’d done. I was history and I would have to pick up my cheque tomorrow as a visitor.
By the time I arrived back to the apartment I’d more or less decided I would pick up the job brief and the cash. I hadn’t quite decided how I’d do it though. They might want to see my passport.
There was a note from Amy and a message on the answer phone from her. She’d had to go home to sort some domestic problems out and would be in touch.
All alone and now nobody to share a bottle of Frascatti with. What a crap day. I ripped off the shirt and trousers. Some benefit they were. I looked at myself in the mirror. What a whimp. Why didn’t I stand up for myself. What was the point of tears.
I decided to freshen up and went to the bathroom. It was a mess as usual since Amy never cleared anything away.
Make-up everywhere, tights and pants hanging from the towel rail. Bra on the windowsill rather than in the wash basket and skirt and vest that she’d obviously decided were not appropriate to travel in. I ran the bath and started to tidy up.
I’d decided to make a plan whilst I soaked. I used some of Amys bath crystals since no bath foam to be seen. She’d obviously taken it with her. I removed my underwear and put a foot in the water. Too hot.
I turned and looked in the mirror whilst stirring the water waiting for the safe temperature. Mmm I even looked girly with my hair hanging loose so I used one of Amys discarded scrunchies to tie it back to a pony tail. Even more girly. I was about to step into the bath when I spotted a lipstick. What would I look like with make-up? No I shouldn’t. But then I just had to try.
By the time I’d finished experimenting the water was cold. I turned on the hot tap and finally stepped in to soak and put my head under the water to wash off the make-up. I’d looked too much like a girl and maybe I should have a hair cut.
Then it hit me. I could probably pass as Vanessa if to collect the cash and the job brief. But dare I do it and what if they challenged me?
To be continued….
‘Life’s a bitch’ — Chapter 4
By Julie D Cole
Intro/reminder : In the first Chapter the story was based in Hong Kong where Michael awoke after a heavy night to find he'd slept with a male colleague who had been convinced he had slept with Vanessa who was supposed to be on an assignment with him.
In the next chapters the reasons why Michael found himself in Hong Kong in this situation are explained starting with Michael suddenly being passed over for promotion and being made redundant. Vanessa, who was not very hard working or conciencious too Michaels job and was moonlighting. Michaels chance for revenge came out of the blue but first he needed to decide if he was willing to take the assignment and if he was prepared to be Vanessa for a few days to collect the rewards. Sad really but sometimes Life is a Bitch!!
...................................................................
Then it hit me. I could probably pass as Vanessa if to collect the cash and the job brief. But dare I do it and what if they challenged me?
I sat up and removed the scrunchie loosening my hair and then I pushed it back off my face. Looking at myself across the bathroom in the mirror I could see that the make-up hadn’t washed off and whilst it was almost clownish with the runs of eye make-up down my cheeks from my eyes I was definitely no Charlie Cairoli and more like Amy looked sometimes. I’d seen her many times with streaks of mascara down her cheeks from tears whilst watching her favourite weepy movie Beaches. I looked at this seemingly female apparition. More a younger Barbara Hershey than a younger Bette Midler. No beauty but maybe worth a second look on a dark night.
Somehow the mess on my face hid any male features I’d inherited. I had some body hair but not much. Yes I certainly slight enough and even seemed to look as helpless as a woman caught suddenly by the window cleaner or some peeping Tom peering through the bathroom window. What had made me instinctively cover my chest and lower tummy region? Nobody was looking and I was all alone. Amy often teased me for standing with my hand on my hip rather than legs astride. Was I being affected by living with Amy and working around so many women? I even had soft humps like small breasts if the truth be known and had tried to cut down dairy products and chicken burgers renowned for challenging testerone.
Huh!! Maybe these days my testerone was more toblerone with the quantity of chocolate Amy and I consumed. Maybe the chocolate was the cause of my chubby little butt. Or was it sitting at a desk so much. Maybe now I’d get chance to exercise more and work off a few pounds and get those pecs into shape. But right now I might take advantage of these features
I tried to squeeze as much of the water from my hair as I could because I should use shampoo crystals since the water around London is hard that makes my hair go frizzy. I searched for the bottle of expensive shampoo and conditioner I’d bought since as usual Amy had more or less just discarded it whilst she tried to get soap out of her eye instead of putting in its rightful place. Sure enough it was on the bathroom floor rather than in the cabinet where I always put it. Top loose and half empty again. Or half full as Amy would say. ‘I left it half full’.
I washed my hair and sat down again in the bath trying to keep soap suds away from my eyes. A discarded ladyshave was at the end of the bath and something inside me picked it up. I removed the few hairs from my chest and under my armpits and then soaped my legs and it didn’t take long to sort those out. I was soon smooth and my skin was soft due to the soak.
I rinsed all the shampoo and soap using the hand shower without splashing water everywhere. I was determined to give this masquerade a try. I might even show Vanessa up a little along the way.
Now I was transfixed with the image in the mirror. Maybe it wasn’t so difficult to disguise myself and act like a woman. I had seen all their traits so many time and could even stick out my tongue in a girly way. It is a girly thing isn’t it since I never saw many men in the office do it. I knew now what I was going to do and I just needed to make a careful plan.
I bent my head forward to let my hair fall and wrapped it in a towel. I had seen Amy do this many times but never did it before myself. It took 2 or 3 attempts before it stayed in place. At least there was one clean large bath towel to wrap around myself as well. But not for long. The black of the mascara was soon removed from my face to the towel. Hopefully it would wash out before Amy saw it since she might wonder why. What was I thinking. As if. She relied on me to load the washing machine and dry clothes and even to iron sometimes. I think I knew my way through her underwear more than any boyfriend and she is a big fan of Sloggi for her everyday wear.
We were a good team in fact since I was in charge of laundry whilst she tended to look after supplies and she definitely focused more on cooking that she exaggerated to always appear too busy to help. I knew her bra size and which fit of trousers she preferred. I don’t know how I managed to fit in the domestic bit sometimes when I think about it. I spent hours covering for Vanessa with hardly time to socialise after looking after myself and Amy as well to some extent.
So now it was decision time. I thought I could at least try some of these clothes she’d left lying around in the bathroom but then put them all in the wash basket and opted for clean ones from the stock of clothes that Amy said she didn’t need and were destined for the Charity shop.
She had filled the double wardrobe in the spare bedroom and 4 of the drawers so II went through to take a look at the options. I knew some items would be tight but these were more the flashy things she liked to wear to show herself off. She liked to attract attention if we were out and sometimes sent out the wrong signals.
It didn’t take me long to select a few items that would fit and I knew that I had enough shape to look half decent. It wasn’t as if it was the first time I’d dressed but that’s another story.
By the time I’d selected something I liked and swopped around a bit my hair was dry so I just brushed it out to prevent it frizzing and then tied it back into a pony tail just like I’d seen mum do to my sister when we were growing up. I used to think I was missing out as they chatted away about all sorts of things and eventually mum would realise and apologise. I guess my decision to grow my hair longer came as a futile effort to seek the same attention and mom time. But we do eventually accept situations and I never in fact felt bitter towards sis. We were great friends and I miss her a lot since she married and moved to Canada. It would be great to take this assignment that Vanessa was promised The cash would easily be enough to pay off some debts and if I was lucky I could double or treble it and take a trip to Toronto and even take a months break now I had no job. That made my decision for me. I was definitely going to pick up the cash and assignment details this afternoon and so now for some more focused effort.
The bra and matching Sloggi briefs fitted snugly and actually were quite comfortable. I didn’t master fastening the clasp with my arms up my back since women must be double jointed and able to reach further. I might have persevered for longer if I had more time but not for now. The bra was 36C and made my chest look quite feminine though not as full as it was when Amy wore it. So I rolled up two pairs of silk panties to pad out a bit and turned for a side view. I just had to touch them. Mmm if Amy saw me now she’d be giggling like she does. She wasn’t at the back of the queue when the boobies were dished out. If these were real I’d certainly be wanting to show them off. Sometimes Amy would go out without a bra and I’d stare at her nipples transfixed. Still you can’t get locked up for it as far as I know. She would say the guys can look but no touching. Easy to say. .
I opted to try a skirt since it was rare that Vanessa wore trousers and so it might help with the charade. She wouldn’t be seen dead in jeans or tight leggings since she was heavy around the thighs and preferred to power look when at work. Ah, the power look and heels. Now that was going to be a problem to overcome if I was to succeed. The black skirt was not the same style as Vanessa wore but would have to do. At least it wasn’t too short and I could walk freely. But my legs looked bare and white so this wouldn’t do. I even had a little tummy as Amy would call it but how to get rid of the small bump below it. That could be trouble later if I didn’t sort it out.
She had a drawer full of stockings socks and tights and most were still in the packets. She buys every time she goes to the supermarket and even carries spares in her bag. I counted twenty pairs of tights and 11 stockings in one wash I did. Goodness knows what happened to the other stocking. How can you lose a stocking?
I opened a new back of nearly black tights. Is there such a colour as nearly black? Isn’t black just black? Ha Ha I found myself singing the Beatles song but right now I wasn’t feeling blue. I was feeling quite excited and a little bit strange. Yet it was such a nice strange not a weird sort of strange. My legs seemed longer and the shape was better than average. Maybe I should get rid of the bump now and wear the sloggi’s on top of the tights with a tighter pantie or even one of amy’s slingshots as I called them that were supposed to show her buttocks to full effect with no VPL. I wondered what the girls were talking about for ages before I looked on the internet. I don’t mind looking at VPL but I guess the slingshot was a better way of dealing with my bump. It worked but I’ve no idea what happened to my bits and pieces.
I liked the look of my legs that seemed slim and as shapely as any I’d seen. No plump knees and quite pony like with slim ankles. Mmm feet slim enough too. Were these magic tights I wondered?
I’ll spare you the details of trying to match the skirt but now I understand why Amy is always late. Finding a top that was the right colour and looked right that had been ironed properly by ‘her staff’ was not a two minute job. I knew I looked OK even without make up.more towards boy girl than girly girl at the moment but with a bit of eye make up and foundation and some lippy I could solve that. Yep that did the trick. ‘Hi there, who are you?’
‘Hi I’m Vanessa. Vanessa the bitch who stole Michaels job and cheats the company and does moonlighting.
So now for some comfy shoes and how to fool the PA into believing I was Vanessa the bitch and handing over the goods?
To be continued……
‘Life’s a bitch’ — Chapter 5
By Julie D Cole
Further lead up to the events in Chapter 1 explaining how michael lost his job and took the opportunity to take an assignment intended for his rival Vanessa that involved a trip to Hong Kong and cash reward.
So now for some comfy shoes and how to fool the PA into believing I was Vanessa the bitch and handing over the goods?
Easier said than done.
First the comfy shoes bit. Not exactly what fits with the outfit? Who wears comfy shoes with a skirt? Well I supposed I could go for the black ballet option but that was hardly Vanessa’s style and I needed something a little more feminine if this was going to work. I never saw Vanessa in anything but heels and the options were limited. Amy is more the clumpy shoe type or the lace up boot sort of a girl. Maybe I should scrap the idea and find a plan B. Luckily there was the one pair that might work but they were well worn. On the upside they fitted but on the downside not exactly Vanessa.
Decisions, decisions, decisions.
Then even if I looked the part how to convince this PA girl if I had no proof of identity. I didn’t need to be Vanessa or even dress like this and I could stick with the original plan to go as myself.
In the end I decided to go for it and to use the security card I’d picked up from Vanessa’s desk and one of her business cards. More fool her for leaving them lying around.
I practised waling in the shoes and to be honest this wasn’t going to work unless I could master the technique of walking without feeling self-conscious. Who invented these things? Some Italian I guessed but was it fashion or to stop girls running away? Probably someone like Sophia Loren was first to promote them or maybe Bridget Bardot. Or even Marilyn Monroe? Was this shoe style really so old?
Thank God for the internet and You tube. I found a few videos describing the best techniques for walking and it helped a lot. I couldn’t resist looking at a film clip of a movie about Marilyn Monroe making a film in England. She was all girl and what a butt. I breathed in and tried to move a little bit of my excess body fat around. I had the curves just like Marilyn but unfortunately they were all in the wrong places. Not much I could do about it unless they sell miracle body shapers. Still nobody was expecting a model.
I plucked up the courage and loaded up a shoulder bag, applied some make up and decided I needed to get my butt moving before the office closed. To save time I took a cab. Quite a charmer as a cabbie but then they can all chat. My cabbie was definitely checking me out but I seemed to pass his examination. I think he could have got a job at Heathrow airport if the body scanners ever broke down. But still he didn’t challenge my sexuality so maybe he didn’t have X-ray eyes after all. I tipped him and he was happy. So I was now standing in the middle of a busy pavement looking for the agent’s office. Not exactly the best area of London to hang around. Close to Soho and better to be visiting in daylight hours than after dark. I pressed the buzzer and tried not to speak with too deep a voice.
‘Hi Vanessa. We’d almost given you up. We’ve been trying to call you and no reply. Please come up to the second floor since I have to leave shortly so not much time.’
A stroke of luck at least. I looked at my spare mobile. 3 missed calls but I’d left it in silent mode. Lucky I gave her boss this number rather than her call Vanessa at the office again and get her mobile number. Let’s hope my luck holds.’
Blast I spoke too soon. No lift it was out of order. That means two flights of stairs to climb and in a skirt and heels. Good job there was nobody around to see me decide how to do this without looking like a muffin. I soon learned that stilettos weren’t designed to make life easy. The high heels were definitely not an aid to climb stairs. I had to quickly find the technique how to transfer more of my weight to my toes or I could have broken a heel and ended up arse over tit so to speak. I heard that before somewhere. Sounds better than butt over tit and more appropriate terminology for a girl on her back with her legs in the air at the bottom of a flight of stairs.
I did ok. Well very OK in fact. It was a breeze. As I looked up on the second flight there was Katerina [Katherine I suppose] peering over the balustrade waiting to welcome me. I wobbled a bit as I tried to look as elegant as possible and let out a little scream. She leapt forward to take my hand. Where the scream came from I’d no idea but I guess it helped project the right image. She smiled and took my arm apologising for the lift being out of order.
‘Come in Vanessa. Glad you made it or we’d have been in trouble. It’s all a bit rushed as Tracey explained. We were let down yesterday and this is an important account. We’ve never met. I’m Katerina. Just call me Kat. Come in and I’ll make you a coffee whilst you check the brief. Is coffee alright?’
I was gasping since I realised how many cups I’d missed through not working. She had some brewing and she joined me on the sofa in case I had any questions. Her perfume was very strong and didn’t smell cheap. I hadn’t used any so I’d have to sort that out. Vanessa wasn’t the type to go out without a full spray. Still Kat had enough for both of us.
‘Any questions?’
‘No it seems pretty clear to me. Does this mean I’m staying in a private house rather than a hotel?’
‘You bet you are. Lucky you. It’s the owner you are interviewing and writing the article about. There are 2 others with you that includes the photographer. It’s probably going to be an Irish girl called Hilary Fitzgerald. She is great fun and she knows our client. I think she met him a few times and he has an eye for her. Still that’s how we do business. Personal contacts and the occasional bit of intimacy if you are lucky. You don’t mind do you?’
‘Are you saying I might have to prostitute myself? ‘I even shocked myself. Shit why did I say that?
“Of course not. We don’t do that in our business. it’s cash up front dear in an envelope.’
She laughed as she said it. I was learning more about Vanessa and how could this bitch take my job? Was she sleeping with someone? It was certainly not the HR Manager. I couldn’t see them together. Vanessa wasn’t going to be interested unless there was something between the legs. Oh Oh what was I saying? No chance. I should be so lucky..
So after my preparation I didn’t need to prove my identity. I guess was lucky to arrive late and Kat seemed to accept me as Vanessa. I gave her a business card anyway in exchange for the brown envelope. Fair exchange indeed. Should I count it in front of Kat? I decided to do it later and if it wasn’t cash then there was no deal.
That was it since clearly Kat was heading somewhere and so she decided to lock up and leave at the same time as me. As she set the alarm she turned and spoke out.
‘You do realise that you’ll need to use your identity card and also I suggest your wear the name tag with our details don’t you. It’s in the envelope.’
I’d seen it but now how to deal with the identity card. We don’t carry them and use our passports as photographic evidence to back up our security tag. I needed a time out to think about how to deal with this but at least I had the cash and it wasn’t in Vanessa’s greedy paws.
She let me go first and I tried to be as elegant as possible. If going upstairs was a challenge then going down again was even worse. I had to turn sideways on and go one step at a time. I had thought about removing my shoes but what woman does that? Kat was like a ballerina compared to me and her heels were at least an inch higher than mine. Probably 2” more like.
We got down the first set of stairs but halfway down the lower flight bang. The heel snapped on my left shoe. Grrrrr. I managed to grab the bannister but dropped the envelopes. Naturally the thick one burst open and the bank notes spilled out. Kat laughed out loud again. ‘Now that’s what I call confetti. You can come to my wedding if you like.’
We gathered them and I managed to get most into my bag. Kat was laughing at me.
‘I wish I was coming to Hong Kong with you V. It would be a real hoot and I never get chance to get out of the office except for errands for Tracey. Oh you are so comical. A real calamity. It serves you right for wearing those old things. They don’t last forever you know. Look the heel was loose.’
‘They were my favourite shoes. No more though. At least it was the heel that snapped and not my ankle.’
I limped the rest of the way and it just made Kat laugh more. She almost wet herself.
‘You must get in touch when you get back and let me know how you went on. Especially if you drop lucky. Come on V. Oh Oh it’s raining outside so now what? ‘
‘Just my luck I’m going to have to take my other shoe off and get my feet soaked I suppose. It’s not my day today.’
‘come on please let me help you. Let me take the package and you can share a taxi with me. I’ll drop you off outside a shoe repair shop or why not treat yourself to a new pair. I can drop you somewhere on the way to my nail appointment. Is that OK with you??’
I nodded acceptance and I didn’t have much choice since walking in heels was a big enough challenge never mind hopping on one leg.
‘Which way are you going? Have you far to go?’
I didn’t want to say so I just shrugged my shoulders. ‘Anywhere will do.’
She dropped me on Kensington High Street right outside Clarks shoe shop. Not the most fashionable shop in London but it was a shop I’d been in before and I knew it was easy to get served without causing a stir. It was busy and I was able to look without being pestered. I even tried a couple of pairs without anyone standing over me. I decided to buy them both since at least they were mine and I didn’t have to borrow Amy’s and lose them or ruin them in Hong Kong. I picked up some flats and a pair of wedges too so lost one pair in the bin and gained four pairs. Amy won’t miss the odd pair.
As I paid I used my card. The assistant looked me in the eye as she checked the card details but didn’t say anything. No doubt she was happy with the business and the pin number worked so what.
I stood in the doorway now with two big bags in hand and pushed the envelopes into one of them. The rain had stopped. I thought about the options for the identity card. Just off the other end of the High Street was the small company who made our security tags and cards and with luck I might just catch a friend who might help me. I called on my mobile. I was lucky he was still in the shop so said he’d wait. The question was did I have the courage to tell him what I was doing and why I was dressed like this?
He was no big fan of Vanessa and had a few run ins with her so I reckoned he’d help.
It takes about 15 minutes to walk to the other end of the High street or 23.5 minutes in new shoes with heels.
I took a deep breath and went into the shop.
‘Sorry madam we are closed. I’m just locking up and I’m waiting for a friend.’
‘OK if you don’t want the business.’
‘Michael is that you? What’s going on?’
To be continued…….. .
'Lifes a Bitch'
by Julie D Cole
..................................
‘Life’s a bitch’ — Chapter 6
By Julie D Cole
‘Sorry madam we are closed. I’m just locking up and I’m waiting for a friend.’
‘OK if you don’t want the business.’
‘Michael is that you? What’s going on?’
………………………………………………………………………………………….
This is a continuation of the preparation Michael had to make in order to take on the moonlighting assignment intended for Vanessa but intercepted by Michael after he lost his promotion anf his job to her.
...............................................................................
‘Hi Greg. Yes it’s me and I feel so embarrassed. it’s not as strange as it might appear. There is a reason for turning up like this. I hope that you will hear my explanation.’
‘Well Michael I’ve got to say that you certainly surprised me. I never took you for a cross dresser though I must say I really thought you were a customer. You don’t look out of place dressed like that.’
‘Thanks but I lost my job this morning and one thing led to another and when I awoke this morning I was extremely happy. I was supposed to have been promoted and I lost my job. Kicked out and that lazy bitch Vanessa Reddich has been put in charge of my group. You know who I mean don’t you?’
‘Yes I know the rude arrogant piece of meat. I had a few run ins with her and she rejected some of my invoices. I’m owed about a grand because of her incompetence. She is the most disorganised person I’ve ever met in this business. She changes her mind more than most women change their knickers.’
‘Well I don’t have to worry that you will tell her about why I called you then.’
‘I’ve no reason to talk to her at all and if I did it would only to put the words to these two fingers. I’d like to stick them right up her…..nostrils. Well I’d prefer to use somebody elses fingers and stick them where the sun don’t shine.’
‘You don’t mind helping me get some revenge on her then?’
It depends what sort of revenge you have in mind. Nothing too mild I hope.’
I explained the events leading up to my dressing in Amys clothes and he laughed when I told him about breaking the heel of my shoe.’
‘What can I do to help you? If I can then I will. I don’t have any rat poison or anything to make her constipated for a month though.’
‘I just need a favour. I’m taking on this assignment that she was supposed to do in Hong Kong and I already got some cash up front. I look set to double it or accept a 5% commission of any receipts from publicising the article about this guy who lives in Hong Kong and who has made a fortune out of the fashion business. He’s only my age and he’s already a millionaire.’
‘What’s the favour you need. I’m just a back street Illustrator & Graphics designer as you know. Just a one man band scratching a living to pay off a mortgage and the stupid rent for this place. I could have done with the grand last week when some debt collectors came knocking. They threatened to knock my block off.’
‘Well I’ve got Vanessas security card and some business cards. I need a copy of the security card but with a photo on it as my ID in Hong Kong since I can’t use my passport and take vanessas place.’
‘Well you’ve obviously given this some thought. Are you sure you can pass yourself as her. Won’t they know her?’
‘no it’s not like she was first choice. She seems to be on the register and I think they got let down at the last minute. I’ve a good mind to make a real balls of the assignment and drop her so far in the shit it comes up to her eyes.’
‘Uggh. Well I wish you luck. Can I see the cards. I assume it’s like the ones I normally supply. I can add a photo if I make it bigger. Do you need to get back into your Company with it or is it just for show?’
‘I never thought of that but I’m tempted to use it to place some evidence around the place so she has to explain the moonlighting.’
‘As long as you don’t get caught for breaking and entering. Let’s have a look at you and I’ll get my camera. I just locked it away in the night safe. Sit under the light.’
‘Is that OK? Do you think it will work?’
‘If you don’t mind me saying the photo won’t look brilliant. Normally customers would take a visit to the hairdressers, especially the female customers. Yours is a bit straggly round the edges and it is a bit striking. We can pop next door if you like and see Wayne. He might give you a quick blow job. Sorry not literally, I meant a quick style and wash and a blow. Do you want to chance it or are you too nervous in case he suspects.’
‘well if you think it’s important I will but nothing too permenant I hope as I have to look half normal at least after I get back to the apartment.’
‘Come on Wayne is OK. He’s a good mate and in fact he is a bit effeminate so he will know what to do.’
‘He was pleased to see us. Just like a puppy dog as soon as he saw Greg. He looked me up and down and did ask Greg if we were doing it. Stupid boy!’
There were a few customers in the shop and two assistants looking after them so I was whisked off to a chair where Wayne played around with my hair looking at different options. He fluffed it, flttened it screwed it into a ball and finally decided I was better to keep the length and cut it so that it was more layered so it naturally fell into shape when I tossed my head.’
When he’d finished Greg just lifted his eyebrows and looked over his glasses. ‘Looking good. I think that’ll do the trick. How much wayne?’
‘On the house. Just buy me some nibbles and a few tapas later and share some wine with me.’
‘how about Michael. Do you mind if he joins us.’
‘She is welcome I suppose but better if Emily joins us then to make up a four.’
‘wait I can’t go out dressed like this. I need to get back home really and confirm my plans.’
‘Come on dear we won’t bite you. It is your obligation anyway since I styled your hair. Don’t worry about being the star attraction. I’ll just get changed before I meet you down there. You won’t get a look in darling.’
So that was sorted and we went to Gregs shop to sort out the badges and the business cards. The photos turned out well so I was given a memory stick with them loaded as well as a few prints. I thought I might leave one framed for Amy together with a note. That would surprise her.
Greg locked up and we headed back down the High Street and turned off to find the Tapas bar where we were supposed to meet Wayne and Emily. It was a converted shop where the doors opened at the front to allow tables to spill onto the street. What a great idea. A bar behind us and lots of choices of wine and various selections at reasonable prices on the ‘daily specials’ board.
Greg held my chair whilst I sat down and winked at me. What would you like to drink Vanessa dear. Your usual bottle of red and some pigs trotters or is it large snails tonight straight from the garden.’
‘Ugh. We settled for the house wine and some nibbly things to wait for the others. It was starting to get busy since a lot of shops and offices were closing. Much better to take snacks in town and wait for the rush of traffic and the underground to quieten.
We must have waited 30 minutes before we heard Waynes voice and we turned to see he was dressed in drag ready for his night out. He was so over the top. He made everybody laugh and the place became noisy and it was difficult to hear ourselves speak. We found a corner of the bar and I sat on a stool next to Emily. Greg stood behind us trying to keep at arms length from Wayne and 3 of his drag friends who had now arrived. The music was loud and the wine was flowing. I don’t recall how many glasses I’d had by 8-30 pm when I looked at my watch. We’d eaten a few tapas so I was worried in case I was ill later. I never drink much.
The other problem was I needed the rest room. Fortunately Emily offered to take me and stand guard. My first trip of many that night and the last time my eyes were able to focus properly. I Wayne had done a great job and so it was assumed I was on the straight side of the bar rather than with Wayne & Co on the He/She side.
Greg was more worse for wear than me by the time we all poured into taxis to go to a Bar where Wayne was due to sing later with his backing group who seemed just as drunk as they showed everything they had and more climbing into their cab.
I guess I preferred to be on the straight side rather than be seen as a drag queen. After all this was just a bit of fun wasn’t it?.
To be continued………