In November my wife and I were in Phoenix visiting friends. I went for a swim and after I got out of the pool, lounging on a chaise, my wife saw my toe nails and said I should get a pedicure (they WERE pretty disgusting).
For once, I decided to listen to my better half, so of course I did!
My GG friend Michelle, featured here often, owns a salon. I trade accounting advice and spreadsheets for pedicures and back waxes and other assorted treatments–and I get the better end of the deal.
For the pedicure I wore the first top Michelle gave me (probably one-fourth of my wardrobe is Hand-Dee-Downs, clothes Michelle has given me because she doesn’t want them anymore). She gave me the full treatment and chose the color, a dark maroon, which she said was a fall color. After the pedicure, I texted her a picture blowing her a kiss as a thank you. Two months later, my toes still look great.
(For those who are curious, I go to my gym and swim and take showers, painted toes and all. There aren’t that many people at the gym these days, and I go at less popular times, but no one has said anything. If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them my wife said my nails were disgusting and I should get a pedicure!)
A few weeks later Michelle and I met and went to her favorite bar, Hemingway’s, where she is well known (nickname: Arkansas, where she’s from) and I’m becoming more known. I’ve been a few times before and her friends and acquaintances, as well as the owners (husband and wife) are welcoming to me. Michelle also gave me the sparkly top, the bra underneath, and the jacket I wore (yes, she’s good to me).
Three stories from the night at Hemingway’s.
First, the previous Saturday I (the guy me) helped Michelle do some moving. Two of the people at the bar–a guy and a woman (boyfriend/girlfriend)–had helped her move and obviously seen the guy me. They were extremely chill about it.
Second, one of Michelle’s friends, who I will call C, was at the bar. C and her husband A are friends of Michelle’s ex-boyfriend. C was happy to meet me, said I looked great, and then later said her husband had bought dresses and was interested in dressing. I asked C to bring over A and we talked for about 15 minutes. They are both late 30’s, C is supportive, and my message was basically “go for it”. But I could see the fear in his eyes, because for the longest time I had the same fear. I haven’t seen them since, but I am extremely curious if he will pursue dressing.
Third, a youngish (27) bartender named Cassidi approached me and said she really liked my outfit and said nice things about doing what I want to do. We talked about doing what makes you happy, and the conversation veered into her recent breakup, and we discussed how other people can’t make you happy. She told me to come back at any time.
Two days later I stopped at Hemingway’s after a St. Louis Gender Foundation dinner. Our dinner theme was LBDs, so I chose one I hadn’t worn out before, a dress I found at a thrift in Australia. When I bought the dress it didn’t fit, but I wanted it enough I bought it, hoping it eventually would (multiple pounds lost later, it did).
I parked just outside the bar and the front door was open. Michelle and her gang were sitting at a table near the door. I step outside my car and hear Michelle yelling “Dee’s here”!
So much for making a subtle entry.
I met some new members of Michelle’s “gang”. I couldn’t stay too long, but ended up driving Michelle and her friend home, as I was a better alternative than an Uber. The only issue is I had to rearrange my bike in the back of my SUV–in heels and a dress–to fit my two passengers, but I managed.
More Michelle time next week.