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I Can Wear A Skirt To Work - Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2025-03-21 09:30:59 +0000 UTCOTHER CHAPTERS | ALL STORY LIST
The next morning started early. The image which they had built for me last night had to be completely re-created. Kate, too, had stayed overnight with Diane, to be on hand to help with the project. Fortunately, it went faster than expected, leaving them plenty of time to attend to their own needs.
Left essentially alone, while they made ready for the day, I passed the time walking around the apartment. After Kate was ready, she appeared with a camera. I didn’t want any photographs, but she invoked the privileges of friendship. When Diane came out a little later, they double-teamed me into assuming some very feminine poses for additional pictures.
When they were finished, Kate brought out a purse to match the shoes. My wallet and a few personal effects were dropped into it, as well as various makeup and grooming items.
That was when I realized I needed to visit the bathroom. When I came out, Kate was already gone. I followed Diane down to her car and rode to work with her.
When we arrived at the office, we were both astonished to find that Jean was most cooperative and unabrasive. In fact, she quickly assumed much of the responsibility for fending off snide comments - taking the ‘blame’ for the fact of my appearance, if not for the quality of it.
By nine, someone had kludged an overlay for Cheryl’s nameplate which had my last name with only a first initial preceding it.
Shortly after that, I noticed that several others were following the lead of Diane and Jean in calling me "Tess".
Morning gave way to midday, and I discovered that a small difference in heel height seemed much greater after three hours of up and down, back and forth, stoop and rise. Smarter now, I slowed down enough to allow for my fatigue.
As lunchtime approached, Jean dropped by to ask if I was going out to lunch.
I told her I was eating in the employee lounge again.
"What a waste," she chided. "You go to all the trouble to look fabulous, and then you hide yourself. Come along with us, and put some sunshine in your life, as well as food in your tummy."
I shook my head, and she went back to her department.
Kate returned from a service call just as I’d sat down to eat my microwaved lunch. She sat down next to me, and removed her lunch from her backpack.
We engaged in light conversation until we’d finished eating. Then she got up.
"Come with me," she said.
I was following right along until I realized she was leading me into the ladies’ room. I stopped abruptly.
"Come on," she said.
"I can’t go in there," I insisted.
"Where else are you going to go, dressed like THAT? The men’s room?"
"I’ll wait until after work."
"What if you can’t last that long. There’s no one in here to care, if you use it now."
I couldn’t fault her logic, so I followed her inside.
As I entered a stall, she reminded me that ladies sit down to do their business.
"I knew that," I drolly replied.
After we’d each finished with the necessities, Kate directed my attention to my makeup. It needed touching up, especially the lipstick. Fortunately, it only took a minute or so; the longer we remained in there, the more nervous I got.
Upon returning to the dispatch desk, I discovered that the nameplate had been changed again. This time to read "Tess" in front of my last name. During the afternoon, that drew some additional chuckles from a couple of the passersby, but I pointedly ignored them, and continued with my work. About mid-afternoon, it suddenly occurred to me that even Elaine was addressing me as "Tess". The feeling of oddness increased, when I realized that I was beginning to respond to it as though it really were my name.
As the end of the day approached, Elaine stopped to talk.
"I thought you’d want to know that I think you’ve done an excellent job, today, in spite of the extra ‘handicap’ you’ve been enduring."
I just smiled, and softly said, "Thank you."
"I had some serious misgivings," she went on, "about You showing up for work appearing so thoroughly feminized. It wasn’t what I had been expecting after Diane’s explanation yesterday."
Inwardly, I cringed a little at that remark. It wasn’t much like I’d imagined either - yesterday.
Elaine continued, "I came very close, this morning, to ending this ... wager ... and sending you home to change clothes. Do you know why I didn’t?"
Now, I couldn’t speak at all, and shook my head "no" with only the slightest motion. I had a vision of her giving me my termination notice.
"It was because you were doing it so well."
I must not have appeared as shocked as I felt, because I didn’t notice any change in her demeanor. I’d swear I had goosebumps everywhere.
"At first, I was angry," she explained, "partly because I thought I’d been deceived; and partly because I feared that you intended to act out an unflattering caricature. Fortunately, I was too involved to leave my office just then, so I had to be content with observing."
She continued, "Now, I’m not saying that you performed with perfect feminine grace. Nevertheless, I saw what seemed an honest effort to ‘be’ the woman you appeared to be."
I finally found a little residue of voice, and squeaked out another, albeit tentative, "Thank you."
"What I’m really trying to say is: as ‘Tess’, you’ve been a very welcome member of the staff today."
Jean, who seemed to have a nose for being in a place at just the right moment, had just come for another batch of reports.
"Yes, she’s been positively great," she said, "She ought to stay on permanently."
She paused, her face reflecting exasperation.
"I’ve as much as conceded that you’ve won, haven’t I?"
My smile filled my face.
"All right," she grumbled, "I’ll make it official. You’ve won the bet. I lost."
"And, I’m just as good as any woman," I prompted.
Jean paused, her expression seeming to say, "let’s not get carried away." She looked up at Elaine, and her countenance softened.
"Yeah, Okay," she said.
"Yeah, Okay, WHAT?" I pressed.
"You did just as good as a woman."
"Thank you."
A service call - the last one for the day - interrupted the encounter, and I turned my attention to getting the customer’s information and notifying the engineer. By the time I had finished, Jean was gone, and it was time to close up shop.
Elaine was still there.
I looked at her - expectantly, I guess - figuring that she had more to say.
"How would you feel about working as "Tess" for another week?"
There’s no way she could have missed the look of shock on my face. She cut off my first attempt to reply.
"If you’ll do it for one more week, I’ll make it up to you, later. "
Even though I knew I had absolutely no intention of following up on it, I couldn’t help but regard her with a rather unfeminine leer.
She saw it.
"Don’t even think it," she growled.
I returned a playful grin. Gotcha!
"You!" she burst out, in mock rebuke.
In a softer voice, she said, "Come into my office, will you?"
After she’d closed the door, she released a sigh, and then explained, "Look, we have a little problem here. You remember the regional parts manager that came in this afternoon?"
I nodded.
"He’s going to be here next week, too. I can’t have him comparing today’s ‘Tess’ with Monday’s ‘Ted’."
Good Heavens! What had I gotten myself into?
"You mean, you don’t think he already knows about me?"
"Anita says no."
"He wasn’t around my desk that much; he probably didn’t get a good look at me. If he asks, just tell him ‘Tess’ was temporary."
"Take another look in the mirror, dear. He had more than enough reason to study you closely. Your appearance is that of a very attractive young woman."
"Oh, thanks. You don’t KNOW what a compliment that is," I replied with restrained sarcasm.
"No," she countered, "You don’t realize what a compliment it IS - to your skill, your adaptability, even your chutzpah. You’ve done an admirable job today - not the work, although that was fine, too - but BEING someone else - another gender, even. I wish I had a videotape to show you. By mid-afternoon, your gestures were so feminine that it was difficult to remember who you really are. And your voice - when you first answer the phone, you sound just like Cheryl, with a cold."
"Elaine, I can’t keep this up for a whole week."
She stared in silent regard.
"You don’t know what it took to make me look like this," I persisted, gesturing down my length. "This is the work of Kate and Diane. It took them hours. I couldn’t hope to do it by myself, and they certainly aren’t going to want to do it for me every day.
She continued to stare.
"Everything I’m wearing is borrowed. I don’t have anything else to wear, much less a whole week’s wardrobe."
Finally she spoke.
"Help me out, Tess."
Her use of my adopted feminine name didn’t go unnoticed.
"I helped you win your bet, by allowing this." She gestured at my attire. "Now, it has put me in a bind, and I need YOUR help."
"I don’t know how I can," I responded in despair.
"Talk to Diane and Kate," she suggested. "You’ve got the weekend; maybe they can help you line up what you’ll need."
"What if they can’t?"
"Won’t you at least try?"
"All right," I told her as I stood up. "I’ll try."
"If you give it a good go, even if it doesn’t work - if something goes wrong, and you’re discovered - I’ll still hold up my end."
"Just what is your part in this deal - other than the consideration already rendered?"
"Well," she considered. "You’ve been wanting a promotion to Senior Engineer?"
My breathing stopped.
"I can’t make this a condition for promotion, nor can I use it against you. What I can do is put you on the fast track to getting there. That’s not a guarantee, but it’s the next nearest thing."
"Thank you," I said, with humble gratitude, "but I still don’t know if I can set it up."
I opened her office door.
"Tess?"
I stopped in the doorway and turned my head to look at her.
"No guts, no glory," she advised, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Returning an apprehensive smile, I continued to the front door, where Diane and Jean waiting.
"Did you forget something?" Diane asked.
I couldn’t think of anything.
"Your purse?" she prompted.
I went back to my desk - or rather, Cheryl’s - and retrieved the purse - I couldn’t bring myself to considering it ‘mine’.
On the way out to the parking lot, Diane reminded me, "It’s my turn to provide dinner. You never told me what you want."
"I hadn’t had much time to think about it," I told her.
"How about I buy it at a restaurant?" she offered.
"When?" I asked. "It’ll take a while to change out of all this."
"Why to bother?" countered Jean. "You look just fine the way you are. Maybe a little touch-up would be in order, but otherwise, you’re better attired for an evening out than any of us. We’re the ones who need to change."
Kate had just joined us, and reached to turn me around.
"She’s right; you look simply delicious."
I half stumbled from the unexpected change in motion, but smoothly recovered by pivoting on the leading foot, swinging the other behind me to stop my motion and push off again.
Jean pressed her point, "And you move well, too. It would be the most fitting way to end the day. Sort of an honors banquet."
"I can’t go out in public like this," I insisted.
We had reached Diane’s car, and it took her a moment to unlock it.
"What do you think you’ve been doing all day?" she pointed out. "None of the visitors who saw you today showed any sign that they thought anything was out of place. You’ll do just fine."
Kate added, "Your voice even sounds feminine. When you first answer the phone it’s almost like Cheryl’s."
"And, you’re beginning to sound more like me," Diane confirmed. "At first, I wondered if you were mocking me, but I think, now, that you’re just a natural mimic."
"Please," I begged, "the deal was just for the workday."
"This isn’t about the deal," Jean explained. "This is about all of us enjoying a pleasant evening meal together."
I could have resisted Jean easily, but with Kate and Diane involved - no, even just the two, without Jean - they could get nearly anything from me.
Kate gave me an across the shoulders hug, and in a Bogart-style voice said, "You’re on a roll, kid. Relax and enjoy it."
"All right," I capitulated, "I’ll go like this."
"Wonderful!" Jean exclaimed. "I’ll meet you all at Diane’s at seven-thirty. She slipped into her own car and drove away.
When we arrived at her apartment, Diane went straight to the shower, leaving me alone, nervously contemplating the idiocy of what we had planned. Fortunately, or maybe not, Diane made quick work of her shower and appeared at the edge of the living room wearing just a towel. The look on my face must have bewildered her for a moment, then she blushed.
"Oops!. I’m sorry, Ted ... Tess. I’d actually forgotten, that you’re not really another woman."
Backing into her room, she called out, "You’ll need to redo your makeup. Clean it off, and I’ll help as soon as I’m decent."
"What’s wrong with it, the way it is?" I called back.
"Evening makeup should be a little more dramatic than for the daytime."
I just sat there, thinking of all the awful possibilities that could result from going out with these women, dressed as I was. If I were discovered, I just knew that I’d be run out of town. I suddenly wanted to just shuck everything, put on my jogging suit, and leave. I’d try to collect my dinners later.
I arose and went to Carol’s bedroom, where I’d spent the night. I didn’t see my own clothes anywhere. I checked the closet with no luck. Just then, I sensed a presence in the room.
Diane was standing in the doorway, wearing a long terry robe.
"What’s wrong?" she asked, seeing the troubled look on my face.
"I can’t find my jogging suit, or my shoes," I told her as I marched straight for the door. "Excuse me."
My voice had lost the feminine lilt it had acquired during the day.
Diane moved aside to let me pass, then followed him me into the living room.
I picked up the purse that contained my wallet and other things from my pockets, only to discover that my keys were not among them. Now I really felt abandoned. Almost tearfully, I demanded, "Where are my keys? I want to go home."
I could see deep worry settling into her expression. We had become very good friends in the past two years.
Her whole demeanor changed, "I’m sorry ... Ted. Kate must have those too. I guess she put everything into her case. Do you want me to take you home?"
"I can’t get inside without the keys." The anger was fading, giving way to hopelessness.
Seeing what she later called a "lost puppy" look on my face, she reached out and took my right hand, asking, "Ted, am I still your friend?"
"Uh ... yes."
"Well, you are my friend, too. The thing is, ‘Tess’ has also become my friend - and I’d like that friendship to continue, as well."
"But, ‘Tess’ doesn’t really exist," I countered.
"In the legal sense, that is true," she acknowledged, "but you seem to be very good at making ‘Tess’ a reality. Maybe you owe it to yourself to explore that talent more deeply."
I didn’t know what to say.
Not getting a reply, Diane continued, "Did you really have a bad time today?"
"Well ... I guess not."
"Then, what’s bothering you is being out in public without the shelter of an office full of friends - right?"
"I guess."
"But, you WILL be among friends, and no one else there will even be noticing you, except, perhaps, how nicely you’re dressed. They’ll be immersed in their own concerns."
I shrugged in uncertain agreement.
"Come on, let’s fix you up, and see if you don’t feel better when I’ve finished adding some special touches. You’ll be a work of art."
That brought an immediate reaction, as my mind replayed an image. I laughed anxiously, "Not an Andy Warhol, I hope."
That brought a giggle out of her, as she gently took hold of my hand and led me toward the bathroom. I trailed along, not at all certain that I wanted this.
After helping me remove the suit top and wig, Diane dabbed cold cream on my face, then had me spread it around evenly, while she soaked a washcloth in very warm water.
Once my face was clean, she lent me her electric razor. "It’s for a woman’s legs, but it should be all right with no more beard than you have."
When I was done, she took me to her room and had me sit at her vanity table. She explained how to use the skin toner, to be followed by a moisturizer. While I was thus occupied, she busied herself elsewhere. By the time she returned, the moisturizer had been thoroughly absorbed.
Now, she guided my application of the makeup base. When the foundation had been set with powder, and the excess brushed away, she refits the wig to my head, pulling the hair away from my face and pinning it out of the way.
Next, she wrapped a towel around my neck, draping it over my ersatz bust. Then, half doing it, and half instructing me in what to do, she showed me how to apply the highlights, explaining the differences between what we were doing now, and the daytime makeup I had worn to work.
As the job progressed, she had me getting into the spirit of the affair. I was growing enthusiastic about the way my appearance was changing. When she thought everything was just right, Diane exclaimed, "There! Don’t you think you look simply beautiful?"
I was still feeling quite subdued but agreed. The liner and shadow played up my eyes, such that they seemed larger, without appearing ‘drawn on’. The blush gave my cheeks a roundness I’d never seen before. My lips seemed to appear more full and moist. Was it just wishful thinking, a result of investing all this effort? I thought that, just maybe, I was somewhat pretty.
Before replacing the suit top, Diane sprayed me under the arms with a scented powder. Then, keeping up a patter of talk, she retreated to her closet to shed her robe and drop a slip over her head. She appeared to be a little uncomfortable, dressing with me in the room - I certainly was, about being there - but she didn’t ask me to leave. Indeed, she kept me engaged in conversation such that I pretty much had to remain there with her. So, in spite of my reservations about being in such an intimate setting, I stayed. In retrospect, I’m pretty sure she didn’t want to leave me alone again and risk letting my fears regain control.
I turned back to face the mirror, at an angle that didn’t show Diane’s reflection, then deliberately avoided turning around until she asked a question about the dress she had slipped on. She looked so good, it became difficult for me to remember to be "Tess".
That got easier when she took my place at the vanity. I watched with interest as she applied her own makeup, enhancing it for evening wear much as she had done mine.
Jean arrived about twenty-five after seven. Her compliments on my appearance took me by surprise in their apparent sincerity.
We didn’t have long to talk, as Kate had driven into the parking lot only a minute behind her. Quickly, we all agreed to ride with Jean.
My resolution to see this through lost some of its firmness when we arrived at the restaurant. To my dismay, there was no crowd to get lost in. Although it took only a minute or two to be given a table, I began to feel increasingly conspicuous while we were waiting. Perched on my three-inch heels, I was the tallest person in our group.
In spite of my fears, everything went very well - at least, until we’d finished eating. That was when we were approached, and two of us were asked to dance. Jean and Diane accepted and left the table with the men.
Moments later, Kate explained, "I have to go to the powder room. Want to come with me?"
I just stared at her. I didn’t really want to be left alone, but the ladies' room at the office was one thing - entering a public one was, to my mind, an entirely different matter. Finally, I gave my head just the slightest shake, and replied, "I’m fine. I’ll just wait here."
Maybe I’d have been better off to have gone with her.
When the band finished its number, Kate hadn’t yet returned, and neither had Diane or Jean. The lead guitarist was going through his patter to introduce the next tune when a guy teetered up to the table. He must have been the runt of his mother’s letter, as he didn’t have to bend much to get his face level with mine. The sour smell of the beer he’d been consuming drifted into my face, along with his words.
"Hey, babe. Wa’s a pretty one like you doin’ just sittin’ when there’s music to dance to? My, my, you ARE a big girl aren’t you?"
I froze in terror. I’d thought for sure that he’d figured out my disguise.
"Yeah," he continued, "I’d ask you to dance, but I like to look into my girl’s eyes when we dance, not her boobs." Then he laughed and wobbled away.
As my terror faded into disgust, I began to desperately wish that the others would come back soon. I even considered leaving without them, but we were on the opposite side of town from my place. I’d be very conspicuous making the three-mile walk home alone, not to mention what kind of shape my feet would be in after making such a trek in three-inch heels. Moreover, I still didn’t have my keys.
The band rolled right from one number into the next, without anyone returning. I caught a glimpse of Jean dancing in a most flirtatious manner and marveled. For being a militant feminist, she sure was leading that guy along. Then I thought about it more deeply. Of course! What better "revenge" than to set a fellow’s expectations and then leave him frustrated.
Another man approached, looking directly at me. This guy had to be the epitome of what women consider a "hunk". Even though the din of the band kept me from hearing some of his words, it was plain that he was asking me to dance. Now, what could I do? I wasn’t much of a dancer as a guy, and I had absolutely no experience dancing the woman’s part. Besides, I didn’t want to be out there, dancing with another man - regardless of what he thought me to be. Then too, how long would he continue to think of me as a woman, once I was away from this table?
I remembered Diane’s purse. Gesturing toward it, I tried to speak both softly, and, yet, make myself understood, "Thank you, but I’m watching the purses."
The music dropped a few decibels.
"How about when one of them gets back?" he asked.
"I probably shouldn’t. My ankle has only been out of the cast a few days," I lied.
"And wearing high heels so soon?" he grinned.
"Anything for fashion," I quipped. "But dancing would be pushing my luck too far."
"You look tall enough to dance in your stocking feet," he observed.
"Thank you very much for asking," I responded, "but not tonight."
Kate returned to the table just after he walked away.
"Who was the guy?" she asked.
"He wanted to dance."
"You’d have made a lovely couple," she teased.
I gave her a deadpan glare.
Soon, there was a break in the music. We saw Jean and Diane being escorted back to the table.
Kate asked, "How about dancing with me?"
The idea of dancing with Kate was appealing, but I wasn’t so sure about trying, dressed the way I was. Which part would I take? Then again, if it wasn’t a slow dance it wouldn’t matter, would it? But, in that case, would I give myself away out there in front of everyone, moving like a guy instead of like a girl? Then, too, there was the fellow who’d just been here.
"I can’t do that now," I exclaimed, "not after telling that guy I’d just got my ankle out of a cast."
Diane and Jean slid back into the booth, while their dance partners pulled up a couple of free chairs.
"You two are missing out on the fun," Jean chided.
"We need to be getting home," Kate told her.
Diane was sharp and picked up on Kate’s intent immediately.
"Isn’t Tess feeling well?" she asked, solicitously.
"Maybe you just need to dance it off," Jean suggested.
I shook my head but didn’t say anything.
"You’re driving," Kate reminded Jean.
Jean turned to the fellow she’d been dancing with.
"Well. I guess that’s the night. Thank you for the nice time."
He suggested that she let us take her car home and he’d give her a ride home later.
She pleads a busy day tomorrow. Picking up her purse, she edged out of the booth as she talked. The rest of us followed suit.
Outside, she remarked, "Well, I can write that guy off as a loser. He must have thought I’m some kind of an airhead. Like - right - I’m going to put myself in a position where my safe return home tonight is dependant on a guy I just met? As if!"
On the trip back to Diane’s, I remained silent, not responding to anything Jean said. She pulled over to the curb and stopped, so she could turn to look at me.
"I’m sorry, Tess. I wasn’t trying to be mean. Do you even know how to dance?"
She answered herself: "Even if you did, you wouldn’t be used to doing the ladies’ part - in reverse. I really am sorry about putting you on the spot. It’s just that you are so ‘on’ as Tess tonight, I have a hard time remembering that there is a Ted underneath. Please accept my apology?"
I wanted to call her a "witch - with a ‘B’", and suggest a place where she should go to find a warmer reception. Instead, I just sighed, and nodded, uttering a barely audible, "OK."
"I also want to apologize for using the word ‘sissy’ the other night. A real ‘sissy’ wouldn’t have even tried to meet the challenge."
I accepted that one too.
Jean turned around and put the car back into gear and pulled back into traffic. We rode in silence the remaining several blocks to Diane’s.
Once there, Diane reminded Kate about my clothes and keys, which were, fortunately, right there in the trunk of Kate’s car. While Kate was getting it open, Jean stepped up to me, and actually gave me a hug.
"I hope that, overall, you had a good time at dinner," she told me. "I did - because I shared it with my friends."
I smiled, albeit somewhat weakly, wondering why the urge to strangle her wasn’t stronger. Then I took possession of my clothes and keys and made straight for my car.
As my door unlatched, Diane asked, "Do you want to come up and change?"
I paused, then replied, "I just want to get home." Indicating the clothing I was wearing, I added, "Can I bring these to you tomorrow?"
"Next week is fine; whenever it’s convenient for you. There’s no hurry."
Gathering my skirt, I sat down, and, in a fairly ladylike manner, swung my legs in under the steering wheel. Moments later, I was on my way home.
Comments
Amanda
Certainly being accepted as ‘one of the girls’. Looking for more of this story.❤️😂💁♀️
