Stef Matthews








My Queendom,
My Queendom
For A Diet Pepsi

By Stef Matthews
In order for this story to make any sense to those who don't know me well, there are three things you need to know.

1) I drink a lot of Diet Pepsi. From the first one in the morning (in lieu of coffee) until the last one before bed. (I used to take one to bed with me in case I woke up in the middle of the night thirsty!) As a matter of fact, a few years ago when people started finding hypodermic needles inside cans of soda I assumed that the manufacturers were simply assisting us heavy users with a new way to ingest their product.

2) I still suffer from the dreaded cross dressers vampire's disease. Although I have no qualms about being dressed in safe situations or in groups, I still get extremely nervous when three things come together: me in a dress, sunlight and the general public.

3) The Marriott City Center in Minneapolis is a hotel sitting on top of a mall. Think of it like a 24 story hotel sitting on top of Crossroads or Westroads shopping mall. The first three levels are the mall and the hotel begins on the 4th floor. The IFGE convention occupied the better part of the 4th floor. There are escalators and elevators that connect the various levels. Now here's the story.

Friday morning I discovered that the mall's food court was one level below us, as a matter of fact you could see some of the food shops from the 4th floor lobby. I filed that information for later use. After one of the sessions I attended Friday afternoon I left absolutely parched! I needed my fix. I searched the entire 4th and 5th floor for the holy vending machine - but there were none to be found Rather than go back to "my" vending machine on the 9th floor, I decided a quick trip to the food court would be a better bet. That way I could obtain the Super Big Gulp that my thirst required. I stepped on the down escalator mustering all of the courage I could find in my purse. The food court was busy so I assumed I'd blend right in.

Well with 5" heels on (and sore feet and a limp to boot) Dennis Rodman would have been less apparent than I was. Riding down the escalator I noticed that there was not a companion escalator that returned me to the safety of the 4th floor. Damn, too late now! There was no way I was going to turn around and run up the escalator - it just didn't seem like the classy thing to do. I entered the food court in all of my height and thirst and of course everyone stopped eating, talking and shopping (it even seemed like the mall stopped playing the Muzak) to stop and look at me (okay, maybe not everybody).

With all of the confidence I could fake I walked around the food court looking for a vendor who sold the nectar known as Diet Pepsi. There were many that sold the anti-Christ of diet sodas (Diet Coke) but I found a deli and ordered the largest cup they had. With the first sip I knew my journey was worth while. Now all I had to do was find my way back to the 4th floor. I assumed that the up elevator would be on the opposite side of the food court. I looked in vain. There were only two ways out of this food court. Climb up the down escalator (which I previously dismissed) or enter the mall and look for an elevator, escalator or any other contraption that began with an "E" than would take me 12 feet higher than I was.

Exiting the food court provided a good view up and down the length of the mall. Funny, there wasn't anything going up. There were about fourteen dozen down escalators and not a single one going up. The mall apparently liked to trap it's shoppers from the hotel. It became apparent that I was probably going to have to return all the way to street level to get back into the hotel. So I walked slowly towards the nearest escalator, pretending to be a business woman on her lunch, sipping a soda and doing a little window shopping.

What I was really doing was looking in the windows of the shops to see if I could see anyone behind me staring at me and screaming in my mind all the time "I want to go home! I want to go home!" I made it down to the street level, found a sign that pointed me towards the Marriott and pressed the up button on the elevator 3 times a second until one of the set of doors opened.

Of course I had to ride up to the 4th floor with a group of business women who had just returned from lunch in the mall, sipping sodas and talking about what they saw during their window shopping spree. I felt right at home. Only I don't think they thought so, when the elevator's doors closed they all stopped chatting and I began to feel like I had encroached on their territory or was mocking them in some way. Before my mind went too far with that thought the doors opened and I was back in the haven of IFGE's 4th floor. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson.

Saturday afternoon "the thirst" struck again. I wasn't keen on heading back to the food court and through a maze of escalators and elevators, but I had all ready bought-out the vending machine on the 9th floor. A mere 12 ounces of golden brown diet juice wasn't going to satisfy the thirst building in me anyway. I spotted the escalator that led to the food court and it was not running. The food court was especially crowded this being Saturday and all, and as much as I would like to think I fit-in with the women of Friday's lunch crowd I knew I was severely over-dressed for a Saturday crowd. But I had a plan. As the escalator was turned off, I'd walk down it, casually walk back to the deli, purchase a cup full of bubbly and return back up the non-functional escalator. It sounded like a plan. A minute or two of self-conscience strutting for 36 ounces of Diet Pepsi - what a deal.

I walked down the escalator, opened the glass door to the food court (when did they install this glass door? I don't remember it being here yesterday) and started a slow measured walk to the deli on the other side of the food court (nothing gets you "clocked" faster than running through the food court in drag!). I bought the large again and confidently strode back to the escalator. It was when I got to the door that I saw that this side of the glass doors didn't have a handle!!! Outsmarted by the designers of a food court! I was trapped again.

My mind went numb. Some panic came reeling up from somewhere below my bras straps and I started looking around for a way out! Or at least a corner I could hide in until everyone left the mall so I could return to the hotel. That's when I saw it, just a bit further past the deli was a staircase leading up! They must have installed the stairs at the same time they put the glass doors in front of the escalator.

As I walked again past the deli (people were definitely starting to notice me instead of the their burgers and fries) I was humming the tune "Stairway to Heaven" to myself. I walked up the stairs and found that I should have been humming, "Stairway to Food Court Balcony!" I stood at the top of the stairs in disbelief. I stayed calm and cool and pretended that I was looking for someone or taking a personal census. Then I turned around, walked back down the stairs, past the deli, past the door with no handle and into a very, very, very crowded mall full of families and Saturday shoppers. Suffice it to say that I only saw two outfits that matched mine in the "Over-Dressed For A Saturday Of Shopping" category, and they were both on mannequins in store windows.

Well, I flowed with the crowd to the down escalator and around the mall. I was shoulder-to-ear with a young mother carrying her young son while flowing on the second floor and I heard her say to her baby (or maybe to her husband on the other side of her), "Honey, I think that's a man." That was the nicest thing I expected to hear. Down to street level and I made my way to the elevators again and then to the safety of the 4th floor. I sipped this soda very slowly today, I wasn't about to pay that much for another!

I (ab)use Diet Pepsi the first thing in the morning like some people do coffee. I would never step into a running shower without some already in my belly, who knows what might happen?

I had already cleaned out the vending machine on the 9th floor (which the hotel staff had graciously placed right outside my room) and decided to try the 8th floor and to stock up for Sunday morning's shower. I got off the elevator on the 8th floor and walked to where the vending area was on the 9th floor. There wasn't a soda machine, or an ice machine. I must have got turned around. I scoured the 8th floor and then I bumped into (almost literally) a hotel employee. I asked him where the vending machine was on this floor and he said, "This floor doesn't have one, it's only meeting rooms. You'll have to go to the guest floors on 9 and above."

I explained that I had bought every Diet Pepsi in my machine and was in great need. He said, "Wait a minute, come with me." and he started walking back toward a meeting room. He said he had just closed up a meeting room and thought they had left some sodas there. I followed him like the junkie that I am. As he unlocked the do or, a newspaper headline quickly flashed in my mind "Boston Strangler Strikes Transvestite in Minneapolis Hotel".

I hesitated, but the need was too great. I entered the room. He showed me to a refreshments table that still contained a few sodas, thank Heavens it was Pepsi, yes I even found a couple of Diet Pepsi's. I offered him the two dollars I had previously pulled from my purse and he refused to take it saying, "No, take them, they have already been paid for." I shoved the two dollars in his hand and said, "That's sweet. This is for you then." and I went back up to my room to change for dinner. Thank you Andrew for your kindness and for not being the Boston Strangler.

I'm sure that my vampire-ism will go away with time. A short time ago I couldn't have imagined myself walking "dressed" through a crowded mall for a soda. Some day, I can now imagine, I'll walk through a crowded mall "dressed" to do some shopping.


Back to Transgender Forum's home page