Ill spare you the life story as its all familiar stuff. The story really
starts when I dropped it on my wife that I wanted to go out in public dressed as
a woman which although she has always known I was a Tranny, came as a bit of a
shock to her, Oh alright then a lot of a shock!
At first my plan was to go on an accompanied trip with either Jodie Lynn of
the Boudoir in London or the slightly closer to home Kristina’s just outside
Manchester. I spoke to both these Ladies to check prices and availability and
decided to book a trip some time soon with one or the other.
However in the mean time I decided I needed to update my tired wardrobe and
set off to purchase a suitable outfit, with my wife who was really helpful, till
I insisted on walking into a department store to purchase a wig, at which point
she refused to associate with me any further!
This was a defining moment, I walked up to the assistant and said " I need a
wig" She just looked at me as if I had just landed from outer space " I’m err
doing a charity drag thing and need a wig," I blurted out. "Oh I see, we can’t
give you one though, youll have to buy it" "That’s fine" "What’s it to be
then-Old lady? Blonde bombshell?" "What about that one" I said pointing to a
long one in my natural colour of dark brown "OK that will be… oh its half price
-£50 its old stock" Well that was a result but I couldn’t get out of the shop
fast enough and went to find Mrs Johnson who was sulking down the road. The wig
had really done it for her and we rowed all the way home and beyond. This was no
ordinary row and it dragged on until the Friday when I just blew and said "Well
I’m off away for the weekend" Her parting shot was something like "well don’t
forget your sodding wig" There was no danger of that as I packed my meagre femme
wardrobe and for some reason her best Trouser suit (we’re the same size in
everything including shoes) and headed for Manchester.
I had some vague idea there were Tranny clubs in Manchester
and that the people at "Transformation" would surely know their whereabouts so
made for their shop in Prestwich. I bought some silicone breast forms and
"miracle beard cover" then asked them where all the best Tranny clubs were.
"Don’t Know" "Ah…… well can you recommend somewhere I can stay?" "Yes try the
Hazel Dene, it used to be Tranny friendly but its recently changed hands, so we
don’t really know" Terrific! I thought, Ill just have to sort it all myself and
so proceeded to check into said hotel but didn’t bother to find out if it was T
friendly or not. I just went to my room, did my face and got dressed, then took
it all off again-like you do! Now what? I thought.
I know, Ill put all my underwear and tights on under my man drab and put the
rest of the drag in a bag, find the tranny club and get changed there, what a
brilliant idea!! So 30 minutes later I found myself wandering round the village
looking for this (non existent) club. Then I saw them !! Three T girls going
into the Gaia Bar, I followed them in and introduced myself as a fellow tranny
looking for this "famous"Tranny club in which to make my debut. They kindly
explained that I was on the wrong night and it was Wednesday nights N.C that I
wanted but I could always get changed in the loos, there and then and join them.
Well I was tempted for a few seconds but in view of the time it takes to get
ready, I thanked them and politely declined. So it would have to be London then.
I knew Wayout club was on every Saturday and knew The Tower Thistle was T
friendly so that was plan B.
I woke very early Saturday and decided to go for it. I did my face and put on
the Wife’s trouser suit -plonked wig on and made a dash for my car and made it,
shaking like a leaf, without being seen and set off for the smoke...........
