The night began with a bit of primping and pampering, a new
reddish brown shade called Toast of New York on my nails with a matching
lip color by Revlon. My makeup artist friend, Jessica, mixed a batch of
foundation for my exact skin tone. Tonight would be the first night I'd
wear it. I lined the top parts of my lids with a dark brown Revlon Pencil
Perfect eyeliner and swept them up a little accentuating my almond-shaped
eyes.
Jessica had also provided
me with complementary eyeshadows, an ashy brown and a warm orange rust
color. The blush was a bronze shade and my mascara was pitch black. I was
careful to brush my lower lashes ever so lightly, whereas coat after coat
of mascara was brushed onto my upper lashes to give them a wild length and
separation. Up close, I looked a little wicked and a quick and dirty smile
bore a devilish grin similar to that of a temptress.
I tried on a new wig that
night, a style called "Tara," which was a long flowing style that ended
midway down my back. The wig hair felt real! It even had its own simulated
scalp that could be seen when you parted it. The hair was a ginger brown
color, a medium brown with gold and auburn highlights. My hairline was
hidden behind a black headband; the wig was firmly anchored to my hair
beneath. My girlfriend, Mary, helped put the finishing touches on the
style, chopping a few strands here and there, spritzing the wig with
hairspray, and teasing it a little until what resulted looked like a mane
suitable for a guidette. Or a temptress.
Complementing my look was
a bright red ribbed turtleneck I had received as a Christmas gift from an
admirer. They covered my braless Mirage boobs, prosthetic glue-ons that I
cannot praise enough of. My nipples were evident only if you looked closely
at them and the smooth slope from the upper part of the chest to the tips
of my nipples looked very realistic underneath my top. Skintight black
jeans and a wide belt looked exceptional with the red top, but the crowning
touch was my new pair of black suede over-the-knee boots I had recently
purchased from Baker's. Nowadays, Baker's is basically what The Wild Pair
used to be: bold, sassy hooker-like shoes and boots, the kind you'd wear to
a club to attract men and lesbians, or even the fetishistic kinds of shoes,
the ones with the five-inch gold-spiked heels.
You have to shop at
Baker's around this time of year because they will sell all of their fall
and winter boot inventory for dirt cheap. Where else can you buy a pair of
$119 boots for $49? My new boots were almost form-fitting, laced up from
underneath each knee. Each boot had a zipper part around the ankle area so
that you could squeeze your foot into the foot of the boot. I intelligently
outfitted each boot with a gel cushion foot pad. Even though the boots were
flats, I knew that Baker's shoes were designed mainly for looks over
comfort, so my feet would get the best of me later on in the night if I
didn't protect them at the outset.
All of my jewelry was
gold. Even my watch that I bought myself for Christmas. It's an Anne Klein
II and is so cool. It's more like a watch bracelet and comes with a set of
interchangeable bezels (red, blue, green, black, silver, and
rhinestone-studded), so you can match the watch with most of your clothing
colors. I chose red that night. I wore a pair of gold semi-hoops that Mary
bought me during our past summer vacation to Ocean City, Maryland. All of
the attention-getting colors I wore were nothing compared to my green eyes.
They lit up everything and looked quite hypnotic giving me a definite
Euro-Asian look! I doused myself in a sea of Giorgio, threw on my tiny
black leather jacket, and we headed off to go do some serious dancing.
At 11:00pm, we parked at
the parking garage around the corner from Woody's, our favorite dance spot.
As we were waiting for the elevator on the top floor, we heard some rowdy
voices heading towards us. They were on the elevator. As the doors opened,
we met face to face with three older but very well-dressed guidoes. Each of
them wore Italian suits and a trenchcoat. They had apparently been drinking
and were in good spirits. The first one smiled at me and I smiled back at
him. He quickly moved ahead to let his friends get off the elevator. The
second one was much more outgoing. He wore a cool black leather trenchcoat.
"Wow! Look what we have
here! Two very pretty ladies!"
I smiled at them and Mary
did, too. The three men smiled and quickly moved aside to let us on the
dingy old elevator. I mouthed the words, "Thank you," and walked into the
elevator with Mary.
"Cool!" I said to Mary as
the elevator doors closed.
"You know you're
good-looking," Mary said to me, waving me off as if to say, "Bah! You love
the flattery." In truth, I do. Anyone who knows me knows I do.
As we were walking down
the windy street in the freezing cold weather, I crossed my arms over my
faux pas boobs in characteristic girlie fashion and briskly walked down the
street. We stood in line to get into Woody's. It was packed tonight, since
someone was celebrating his birthday there. As each pair of guys left, the
big female bouncer guarding the door let a new pair of people in. A couple
of teen clubgirls walked by and stopped in front of me.
"Those boots are SO
COOL," one of them said. "Where'd you get them?"
"Baker's," I replied.
"They are SO COOL," she
said again.
"Thanks!" I said as they
walked off and got onto the line somewhere behind us.
We entered Woody's and it
was packed like it never was before. We inched our way upstairs to the
dance room. As I entered the dance room, many eyes darted my way. We walked
towards the other end of the room. Mary caught sight of Teri and Adam, two
of our clubgoing friends. Adam stopped dancing when he saw me, rushed off
the dance floor, and gave me a hug.
"Y'know," he said to
Mary, "if he keeps looking this good every time we go out, I'm going to
take him home for myself!"
I laughed. Adam smiled.
Mary nudged him.
"Heyyyyy!!!" she said.
"No! He's mine!"
Adam ran back to the
dance floor and resumed his dancing with his girlfriend. A few moments
later, a short white-haired man in his fifties stopped directly in front of
us and just stared at me for the longest time. He looked a bit like a
creepier version of Christopher Walken (who is already pretty
creepy-looking). Mary whisper-warned me of the old man and I noticed him
looking at me. It did not phase him that I noticed him and looked back at
him in a mean way, as if I were saying "You goon! Why are you staring at
me?"
The old man proceeded to
walk right behind me. Mary caught him staring at my butt. She poked me to
move me away from him, which I gladly did. What a creepy guy!
The old man then moved to
the edge of the dance floor and started staring at Adam for the longest
amount of time, again for no apparent reason. Mary and I moved towards the
bar area and met Jana, a drag clubkid friend of ours.
"Oh, my Gawd!" she
exclaimed to me, touching my hair. "I love your hair! This look is so
YOU!!! It really works!"
"Thank you!" I replied. I
told her I loved her hair, too, but I was more like putting on airs than
telling the truth. She looked like a drag queen and was proud of it. Kudos
to Jana!
Teri and Adam got off the
dance floor to take a break and get a drink.
"Hey, some guy was
checking Teri out BIG TIME!" Adam said.
"No, I think he was more
like checking you out," I said. Adam grinned.
"Yeah, he was probably
wondering where my tits were!"
We all laughed.
The old man moved towards
us again. Mary eyed him in a cautious manner.
"Uh oh, hon, he's behind
you again."
Ack. Behind me again
checking out my behind, no doubt. Better not do the butt wiggle. He's not
good-looking enough! Adam side-stepped in front of the man so he couldn't
check me out any further. The old man was persistent and moved to my side.
I looked up in the air as if to say, "Oh, Gawd!!!" I wonder if he caught
notice of my gesture, since he walked away shortly afterwards.
Adam and I started
talking about the strange man and all of the strange people we had seen at
Woody's, from the Black transsexual who bore her big boobs to the greasy,
sweaty Italian hunks who gyrated their buns on the pedestals to the butch
and lipstick lesbian couples with the killer female bodybuilder-like
physiques. Images of "different" people dancing wildly and having a great
time filled my mind. You think you can get as much fun as this
from a strictly heterosexual club? No way!
Teri and Adam rushed off
to the dance floor again. "Meet you two in the center of the dance floor
later," I said to them.
Mary and I walked over to
the other part of the dance floor. We passed by Jana and her boyfriend.
"You go, girl!" she said to me and smiled. I smiled back.
We passed by the old man
again. He was following me with his eyes. As I passed by him, he said
something.
"You're gorgeous," he
said. "Absolutely beautiful."
I
turned to look at him
and smiled.
A couple of days later I
got an anonymous e-mail message from an admirer saying that he had seen me
at Woody's, but was too afraid to introduce himself to me. This was
probably the old man. Hey, people! Wake up! I like the outgoing
approachable type, y'know! You'll get a big hug from me if you are such a
person!
After two hours of
dancing, we left Woody's and drove down the street a couple of blocks,
parked the car, and headed towards an all-night diner. Teri and Adam had to
leave, since they had some work to finish the next day. Several cars had
beeped us as we walked down the street.
"Think they're beeping at
me?" I asked Mary in an innocent way. I knew they were. I'm a temptress,
remember?
"Well, who else are they
beeping at?!" she exclaimed. "Grrr!!! That's why I never liked going out
with Sharon. She'd get beeped a lot every time we went out."
Sharon is a statuesque
brunette who used to look like an auburn-haired version of Sylvester
Stallone's ex-wife, Brigette Nielson. Very lean, mean, and muscular. Sharon
loved the slutty-look. Black patent leather thigh-high spiked-heeled boots.
Black leather jacket, black leather jeans, black leather everything. She
was a real-life vamp if I ever saw one, with an attitude to boot, too. She
looked like a vamp 24 hours a day. Oh, yes, did I mention she attended
prissy Catholic schools all throughout her life? Hee hee.
"So, I'm like Sharon,
eh?" I kidded.
"Grrr!!! Stop it!" Mary
scolded me. I laughed. Hee hee. We quickly scooted towards the diner.
"You go in first," Mary
said. The place was packed. An old waitress eyed us from afar. "Sit
anywhere you want," she yelled out from across the room.
Just then, a young Black
girl sitting at a table with two Black girlfriends stopped her conversation
in mid-sentence and eyed me as I walked into the dining area. She looked at
me in a questionable manner.
I put my best face
forward and gave her a bright grin. She smiled back sincerely and continued
talking to her friends as usual. My ultra-sonic hearing didn't pick up the
slightest jest. If I had quickly darted my eyes away from her as I would
have done two or three years ago, she would have had some fodder to talk
about with her friends. Other people looked my way, but got back to their
conversations after I had either looked them straight in the eye or relaxed
my nerves so as not to look nervous in front of them. Learning to relax
yourself in crowds will definitely improve your passability. Then again, it
was late at nightand no one probably gave a shit.
Nope. The waitress and
waterboy certainly didn't seem to mind that a man's voice was coming out of
a woman's image. Then again, the waitress was kind of masculine in her own
way and the waterboy, actually an older man in his fifties, looked tired
and out of it. They probably saw every weirdo and derelict walk in through
those diner doors in their younger days. Hell, maybe they were clubkids
themselves a long time ago.
We ate our "country
breakfasts" at a moderate pace and left the diner at around 3:00am. I got
beeped some more by the cars that passed us by. Mary rolled her eyes up
some more as I ate it up.
"Grrr!!!" she said.
"Hey, if you wore these
boots and a tiny leather jacket like me, you'd get beeps, too!" I said to
her.
She agreed, but then
said, "Nah... it's just not me."
Nope. It's not her. It's me!
Kalina
The Sexy Vampire