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An Eventful Shopping Expedition
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Hi there, my name is Andrew. Here is a short story in which I recount to you, in as accurate a manner as I can remember, what happened one afternoon on a shopping trip, that turned out to be pretty eventful.

I lived in a small town in the North of England. There wasn't much going on there at all, it was pretty dead as a place really, and there were only a few shops to speak of. Fortunately however, there were two larger towns about 10 miles either side of mine. A short bus journey's ride to either.

I should mention here that I'm somewhere on the TG spectrum. I don't know exactly where, as things change within me. Sometimes I think I'm just a CD, other times I feel it's more serious. I'm not fussed, why put a label on it?

I also should mention this happened when I was 20, and before I was 'online', with all the access to purchasing 'things' that that offers. These were the days when one actually had to go to actual shops! Imagine that!

I had a previous shopping experience on another occasion in one of the larger towns. There was a small independent womanswear shop in this town. I had built up the courage to go in and look for something to purchase for myself. I was however, so embarrassed it was cringe-worthy, and the saleswoman could sense this a mile away and I don't think she was amused. I left awkwardly and empty-handed. What an awful experience that was! But we live and learn, it was a lesson in what not to do. Painful, but it was a lesson.

Now, enough waffle, and onto what happened this time. I knew of another small womenswear shop in the other town. It had been there since I could remember, so they must have done quite well business-wise. I planned my attack... I mean, my shopping visit to this place. I knew confidence was key, and don't look and embarrassed or worse, ashamed. It's perfectly normal. I'm sure they get guys all the time coming in and buying things, for their wives or girlfriends of course!

Scenario:
Male customer: I'm looking for something for my wife
Saleswoman: Do you know her size?
Male customer: She's a 12
Saleswoman to herself: Uh huh, funny, she's the same size as you, how convenient...

I digress. Onto this shopping trip.

It was a Thursday afternoon, I didn't know when quiet times in the shop would be, but I figured that that was as good a day/time as any. I didn't want a busy shop with lots of witnesses. I got the bus there, and during the short journey I repeated to myself to stay calm, and have confidence. Confidence is everything, if you can brazen it out, it'll be fine.

I alighted the bus at the right stop, and had a few minutes walk to the shop. Have confidence, I continued to repeat to myself. And smile to the assistant, you're just another normal customer, nothing to see here.

I entered the shop, and my eyes scanned the place, and who was in it, taking as much of it in as I could, as quickly as I could, without looking obviously nervous. It was a fairly small shop, and every space was utilised with efficiency. There was one woman behind the counter, a pleasant looking middle-aged woman, who smiled as I entered the door. There was one other customer at one side of the shop. Good, I thought to myself, it's nice and quiet.

As there was someone at one side of the shop, my avoidance meant I turned to the other side to start looking at what the shop had to offer. I'd clocked that dresses were at the side with the other person, dammit. However, on the side I was at, there was a selection of blouses. Great! This shop was geared to the slightly older woman, I knew that before from glancing through the window on previous occasions. Which was cool, as I liked a whole range of styles, from young to older. Some of the older designs offered a more feminine style, which I quite liked.

I was stood by a rail of blouses, different styles and different colours. Right, look for something nice, in my size (I was a UK size 12). I had been stood there keeping myself to myself and looking through the blouses, trying to appear nonchalant, when I heard over my shoulder a voice saying "Can I help you?." I got a little startle, but I contained myself.

"I'm just looking, thanks"

"Certainly, if there's anything I can help you with..."

"No it's okay"

Keep the nerve, I told myself, you've not been rumbled. I continued to look at the blouses on offer, and my eyes were drawn to a really lovely one in particular. It was an ivory colour, with a really pretty lace detailing trimming the buttons down the front, and a little lace detail on the collar. I picked it off the rail to look at it better, it was a really lovely blouse, and in my size, and the price wasn't too bad. I determined that I was going to get it. This was going to be a short but sweet shopping trip.

I took the blouse over to the counter where the helpful lady was stood. She smiled as I approached and I smiled back, nothing to see here. Though I'm sure my smile was so nervous it betrayed a whole lot of things.

Then it happened. I can't recall what her exact words were, I was taken by surprise. I'd had the whole trip planned, and this wasn't in the version that I'd foreseen. She asked me if it was a gift or if it was for myself. Now I should have said it was a gift, that would have been the end of it, I'd have made the purchase and left. However, in all my self-talk of having confidence, and nothing to be ashamed about etc. etc., I'd talked myself into being a little more honest than I'd reckoned on.

Stupid me I replied that it was for me. D'oh!

The lady behind the counter smiled at that. She was cool with it, I was fine. She probably see's it all the time, comes with the territory of working in a womenswear shop. Then she dropped the question... would I like to try it on for size, and that there was a dressing room over there in the corner.

This wasn't how I'd foreseen things at all, and to say I was on the back foot and taken off-guard would be true, if an under-statement. So stupid me, I agreed to it, what was I thinking!? Really!?

I think with hindsight she was having fun at my expense, it was probably a slow day, and she could see my nervousness.

She guided me over to the dressing room, and I entered the small cubicle, clutching the blouse I coveted. She pulled the curtain closed behind me.

I took my jacket off, and placed it on the chair that was there. And I unbuttoned my shirt, and took it off and hung it on a hook on the cubicle wall. What was I doing? How did I get here? I took the blouse and slipped it on, and set about doing-up the little ivory cloth-covered buttons up the front. Once done I stretched my arms out, and fussed with the blouse a little, it was a really good fit.

Then I heard the lady from the other side of the curtain. Why was I surprised, like things hadn't gone far enough already? She called from the other side of the curtain to come out, and she'll check it for style and fit. Well my brain wasn't functioning, between surprise and nerves I was running on auto-pilot, thinking capacity had largely gone.

I turned around to face the curtain (so to speak, it wasn't the final one), and pulled it aside. She was stood there and smiled when she saw me. "Oh it looks lovely, here, turn around" she fussed a little and concluded, like I had, that it was a nice fit. Thanks for the second opinion.

She remarked that something wasn't right, she thought (or pretended to think) a moment. Then it came to her, she said that I'm not filling it out properly. Excuse me? She continued further, and mentioned that she stocks a small range of underwear 'over there', you need a bra under a blouse like that, to fill it out, and it's pretty sheer in this light. What?

She could assist me, she insisted, and sized me up pretty quickly, in more ways than one I think. "You stay there, I have just the one." She left me to go to the other side of the shop, which wasn't far, and I could see her at the fore-mentioned small range of lingerie and nightwear. She returned holding a bra, which I was guessing was meant for me, who else could it be for?

"Go back in and get changed into this, then try the blouse on again" she said, handing me the bra.

"Do you need any help?" she asked.

"No, no, I think I'm okay" I replied, flustered.

"Good"

I went back into the cubicle and she pulled the curtain closed behind me again. 'Who's in charge here?' I remember thinking to myself, one of many thinkings. So I did as suggested, and unbuttoned the fussy buttons, and took the blouse off. Then I thought to myself 'Shit', now she'll know I know how to put a bra on, dammit! I did know how, and I reckon she knew I knew. After getting it on and adjusting myself, I noted how accurately she'd sized me up, 32a, just right with a little padding, which I didn't have to hand, obviously. Then I got the blouse back on and fastened it up. Those buttons were ever so dainty and pretty, but a royal pain to do up.

Oh well, in for a penny... I opened the curtain again. I received a glowing appraisal from Irene (she'd told me her name previously). She told me that 'now' it looks really lovely, suits my complexion, etc. I didn't know where to look, and just smiled a lot like an idiot. Thanks Irene.

She asked me if I wanted to purchase the bra too, and how nicely it fit and looked lovely on me. I think I replied that I would.

I turned to go back into the cubicle to get changed back into my male shirt, when she pulled me up short. She had, apparently, just the right skirt to go with that blouse, the perfect companion. Whaaa...? Yes, you just stay there and I'll show you it, see what you think.

She made her way to a rail with skirts on it, and I could see that she knew exactly which one to go to, as she went straight to it. She plucked it from the rail and brought it to me, in my size too, I could see from the label... she was good!

I had to admit, she was right, it was a beautiful skirt. It was navy blue, long (I was guessing mid-calf), and had pleats all the way around. Kind of old-fashioned styling, but I like that.

She asked me if she was right, and that it was lovely wasn't it, and it would go really well with that blouse. I think I agreed. What was I doing? How did I get here? What day is it?

I really must try it on, see how it looks, I think she insisted that I do. I think I was powerless. Too young, nervous, naive, to know my own mind enough to refuse. I just went along with her authority and insistence. And she was so nice and effusive about everything, how could I not go along with it?

So she handed me this skirt, and I turned around again to go back into the dressing room. It's a wonder I wasn't getting dizzy, though maybe I was. I proceeded to unbutton my jeans, and pull them down and off. The blouse really was a nice fit, and didn't restrict this movement. I took the skirt off the hanger and held it in front of me to get it the right way round, and lowered it to the floor and stepped into it, then pulled it up to my waist, where I fastened the button at the back and did the little zipper up. She was good, it was a good fit.

I could say I felt terribly self-conscious. And I would have done, had it not gone past that point some time ago. I was beyond that and a bit like a robot. It was a state of surprisingly little anxiety and nervousness, quite pleasant actually, having surrendered control.

I admired the outfit in the mirror for a moment, before reckoning I had to show the awaiting Irene. I pulled the curtain aside and she looked in the cubicle from the outside. She gushed how lovely I looked, and how darling it was. I think she used the word 'darling' several times, for both the outfit and for me.

At this point now, I think she'd had most of her fun, and there wasn't much more she could do with me there. She sort of wrapped things up, effusing all the time about how darling and lovely. And I went back into the cubicle to get changed into my 'normal' clothes. While I was getting changed back, the glazed-over state I was in sort of came to an end, and I became a bit more aware again of reality. And I got nervous again, but it wasn't so bad this time around. I thought to myself it was actually sort of funny, and that I'll remember this for the rest of my life.

I stepped out of the dressing room, looking like the male that had entered the first time. Only, this time I was clutching a blouse, bra, and a skirt.

Irene took me over to the counter and accepted the items from me, and put them in bags for me. And she totted the items up on the till. Thank goodness she accepted credit cards, as I didn't have enough cash on me. I was only anticipating a single item, and a quick shopping experience.

Then it was all kind of over. I left Irene's little womenswear shop, with my bagged items. I checked my watch, I hadn't been in there as long as it felt. It felt like a lifetime of experience, but was actually not much more than half an hour.

I went to the bus stop, and waited for my bus. Still glazed over slightly, but with a warm feeling inside.

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The End
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