Coreen's Big Adventure

By Coreen Clarke

© 1996 Transgender Forum and Coreen Clarke

The weekend of Nov 18-20/95 I was able to take a flight from Calgary, Alberta, Canada to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan to visit net-friends, and spend the whole time en femme. Being a married-with-kid TV/TS, such an experience is not something I do everyday. It was a true thrill, and though I'd hesitate to say a "once in a lifetime" opportunity, I'd have to say "once in a long while".

It all started when the airlines in Canada announced incredible seat sales to destinations in Canada. For a long time, I'd had a fantasy to fly somewhere as Coreen, and also a strong desire to get together withnet-friends, Michelle (a TS) and Mandy (a TV), in Saskatoon. When I saw the ads from the airlines, I knew I had to go, but how would I ever convince my wife? She isn't exactly thrilled with my TG nature, and even though she has come along way in accepting things, her pet peeve is still me spending any money on it.

As usual, I tried to win my goal by slightly mentioning it from time to time. This gave her the idea that I'd like to go "sometime". The clincher was when she and my Ma-in-law decided to spend a weekend in Vegas, and I was suddenly "owed" a trip! I had her blessing! She assumed that I would be en femme once there, but not that I would travel so. My plan (as usual) was to tell about the latter part after I was back. I do not like to lie to my wife, and she would worry terribly if she'd known before hand.

Everything was booked and I waited with growing excitement for the day to come. My special weekend would be the end of a rare 3-weekends-in-a-row spell of going out. I tried to use the opportunities leading up to it to practice my voice and generally passing in public. Unfortunately, these experiences were a bit hit and miss as far as success. To my horror, I found as the time neared, my confidence seemed to be declining! I was aided by the fact that the more TG friends I told about my plans, the more I found out many others had already taken similar flights before. The week before I left, I read on the Internet about someone who flew en femme regularly without any problems.

Finally, the week after my wife returned (no poorer!) from Vegas, it was my turn. The seat sale required one to leave on a Saturday. and return on a Monday. I had a problem trying to arrange enough time to go to my local TG club, Illusions, to transform without my wife catching on. This caused me to leave what I thought was a bare minimum of time, but turned out not to be enough.

Things had started to go wrong even before this weekend. I had put my back out for the second time in three weeks, totally immobilizing me for four days (again). Physiotherapy had helped, but I was wondering if I'd have to cancel the whole thing, right up until the night before. On top of that, I caught a cold. It hadn't really set in, but my throat was sore and raspy, making my voice not at it's best... great for the old confidence! Though I had planned to wear my panty girdle, with built in waist nipper, anyway, it became mandatory to give support to my back. I only wear the girdle with pants, to get the butt and waist shaped, and to hold a mean tuck (With skirts I only wear a waist nipper, or nothing).

While shaving at home on the departure day, I immediately gave myself a wicked cut right on the bottom lip's line. It just wouldn't stop bleeding! I had to lie down for awhile for it to stop, wasting time I couldn't afford. When it finally stopped it left a prominent protruding scab... yuck! Once at the club, I got to work straight away. This is when I discovered I had forgotten my silicone breast forms. I pondered giving up and going home to get them, and thus abandoning the flight dressed as a girl. Instead, I decided to "take a trip down memory lane" and use multiple pairs of pantyhose to stuff my bra. They work ok, but you have to work them around a lot to eliminate the bumpiness, and to give them the proper shape. I always carry *tons* of pantyhose, in all shades!

Doing makeup went alright until the lip started to bleed again, just as I'd finished my foundation. This happened a few more times throughout the process, but luckily it stopped a lot more easily than in the first instance. I kept at it, but soon found I was running out of time. This fact, combined with all the other little setbacks, was starting to frazzle my nerves. By the time I had to abort painting my nails and scramble out the door, I was in a total panic! Fortunately, I had "borrowed" a valium from my wife, and it truly saved me. I was really hoping I wouldn't use it. I had pictured arriving at the airport early with plenty of time to buy some women's magazines, etc. The valium was supposed to be for an "emergency" only, like if I was so nervous on the plane that I was giving myself away. I didn't really figure that would happen though. It wasn't meant to compensate for bad planning!

I had decided to use the "Park and Jet" and leave my vehicle at the airport. I drove like a mad-woman to get there. As I entered their compound and pulled up to the window, the girl inside looked over at me and broke out into a huge smile. I was thinking, "Geez,... the first person I meet up with in public, and I'm read". This may or may not have been true. I had decided to approach the whole trip by assuming I would be read; maybe not all the time, but at some point(s), and to not worry about it. I kind of doubted I'd be thrown out of the plane at 35,000 feet! The rest I figured I could handle.

Pulling up to my assigned spot, the bus to the terminal was blocking it while a large group boarded. I figured I'd wait to let it go, then take a less crowded bus. To my surprise, the driver honked at me and backed up to let me park. Suddenly, I was "on". Things went well right away. The driver jumped out and refused to let me carry my bags. This was especially practical considering the condition of my back! The group in the bus gave me some casual glances, but that, of course, is completely normal. On the other hand, the driver seemed to be quite interested in me! He was talking my ear off, asking a lot of questions about my trip. My voice seemed to be working. At the terminal the driver once again jumped up to up carry my bags off the bus, and even ran off to find me a cart. On leaving, he said, "You have a *real* nice trip!". It was so nice to be treated as a lady! It looked like, so far, everything was going ok.

I couldn't seem to find my flight's check-in. When I asked, I found out it had already been shut down. Now I knew I was really late! They processed me at another window, and I had to go directly to board. Now came the part I had been dreading... going through security! I was quite worried I would set off the metal detector, with all the jewelry I had on. I had envisioned the buzzer sounding, followed by a bit of a scene as they used the hand wand. I pictured they would then see I was in "disguise" and haul me off or something! To my surprise I breezed through... nothing. You know, as a guy I never wear any jewelry, and the small amount of metal in my belt buckle always sets those detectors off, as the guy beside me could attest to.

As I approached my gate, a woman from the airline was requesting anyone bound for Saskatoon to identify themselves. I put up my hand, which caused her to start reaming me out for being late! That shocked me. I thought, "What a wonderful way to win customers.". She said they were just about to send the plane off without me! Going down the boarding ramp, the same thing happened again; this time from the captain!

I truly figured the flight would not be to crowded. It was Grey Cup weekend, so I deduced the big traffic would be heading forRegina, several hundred miles to the south of my destination. As I popped into the cabin, I was shocked again to find the plane was packed, with just one little old seat left... mine! Not only was it sold out, it seemed to be full of men in their thirties, all quite macho looking. I was thinking I would have preferred granny types, if I was discovered and they decided to show their disgust physically.

Everyone was looking at me. They all knew I was the one holding up the flight. Still I didn't sense any "ill will" towards me. I just looked at the two gentlemen in my row and pointed to my window seat. Fortunately, I had prebooked a window seat in the second row. After stashing my coat, they got up to let me in. Then they, and the guys in front started fussing over me. "Do you have enough room?", "Is that bag in your way?", were some of the typical comments. I was loving it, and my voice still seemed to be working.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and so, wonderful. I buried myself in the flight magazine, so no one would try to talk to me. I felt really good, as I sipped on my wine after supper. When we landed, I found out why the plane had been full of those guys. It turned out they were all in a hunting club, out on some excursion. I got another shock when I saw all the custom rifle cases going around the luggage carousal! These guys could have caused me some real trouble had they taken a dislike to me!

While I waited for my luggage to appear, I decided to take care of my car rental. I had worried that there might be a problem when they saw the male photo on my driver's license. In Alberta, the license is in two parts; a folded information sheet, and a laminated photo I.D., all tucked into a clear wallet sized holder. I had slipped the picture part in between the folded part in hopes that they may not look for it. I got lucky, and that's what happened! I wasn't concerned that I would be discovered, but rather that I might be refused the car based on the discrepancy. I had a few "lines" prepared if they had asked, "Are you a man?". One was, "I used to be." and another (suggested by a friend) stated that I was drag performer in town to do a show. In actuality, I know it doesn't break any law (at least where I'm from) to dress in whatever manner makes one feel comfortable, as long as said person doesn't commit a felony dressed as such, or countervenes any nudity or exposure rules. I mean, even with just a different haircut, someone could look vastly different than their photo, and I doubt they would be refuse a car because of that. So, the rental went just fine, but as I came back to get my luggage, a lady with the terminal was scowling at me as she off loaded my bags. Once again, I was last!

With Michelle's excellent directions, I was at her place in no time, even with it being quite dark out. With nervous excitement, I entered her building a found her suite. I know the excitement was mutual as we finally came face to face. We had written each other on the net for a long time, but had only talked on the phone once. This was our first meeting. It reminded me a lot of when Mandy and I finally met in Calgary, a few months ago. It took me a little while to relax again. We shared a bottle of Michelle's wine, and I soon came to realize she was just as sweet in person as in her letters.

With excellent timing, Mandy phoned to see if we could rendezvous for a visit with her where she worked. Michelle and I had planned to go to the alternative nightclub, Diva's, later on that evening. I was told it would be somewhat pointless to go before about 11pm. so, before we knew it, we were out the door. Mandy met us and found us a secluded area where we could sit and talk. It had a breathtaking view of the city! I was so thrilled to be in a room with both of my good friends at the same time. In too short a time, Mandy needed to get back to work, and the time was ripe to head to the club. A pit stop was needed back at Michelle's to fix up and for me to change. Off with the pants and into a skirt... ah... heaven! Going right back out the door saw us shortly heading into downtown. We found parking near by, but it was still about a block's worth of walking. The club was discreet; I could never have found it without Michelle! I was impressed once we got inside. There was a decent sized dance floor and a pounding sound system. We headed upstairs and sat by the railing that overlooked the dance floor (I love clubs like that!). We chatted and girl-talked.

Occasionally, someone Michelle knew would come up, so she would introduce me to them. We were having a wonderful time, until one particular guy came up to Michelle to talk to her. I thought she knew him but it wasn't so. This guy was creepy! He was too drunk, but at first that didn't seem apparent. His opening lines were something like, "I've been stalking you. I've been stalking you for a long time.". It just got worse from there! I mean really guy, what kind of line is that? Do you really think stuff like that is going to win you any points? It seemed to have an adverse effect on Michelle. She still says she can't forget him. Luckily he didn't persist for too long.

It was getting close to closing time, so we hit the dance floor to work up a sweat. When we rested, we just stayed downstairs. More of Michelle's acquaintances periodically stopped by, and unfortunately, so did the same creepy guy. This time, he blurted out the most endless stream of B.S. I'd ever heard; everything including being a rock star. I used to make my living playing in bands so he wasn't fooling (or impressing) me. We decided to leave.

As we were waiting in the car to turn off the street where we had parked, a large group of guys crossed in front of us, on the red light no less. They spied us and started whooping and hollering, and pretending to hitchhike. I guess you could say they had an "interest" in us. Eventually they crossed and continued down the street. We turned the same way and the attention started again. One guy came onto the road as he hitchhiked. We thought it was kind of funny. They seemed to be nice guys, just out having a bit of fun.

We got home, and continued to talk into the early morn. Finally, we had to get ready for bed. No matter how long I stay out, I always find it so depressing when the time comes to take the makeup off, and change out of the clothes. This time, I'd be able to put on a silky nighty at least. I'm afraid I wasn't looking too feminine anymore, but Michelle was such a sweety to keep treating me as such. I had warned her about this stage of the night, and she to me. The thing is, she still looked like a girl! She is truly beautiful inside and out, and has an adorably feminine voice.

The next day, it was so wonderful to get right back into looking and being feminine. Michelle gave me a tour of the city while I drove. I was highly impressed with Saskatoon. This was the first time I'd seen it, in the light! It is what I'd term a "small city", which I prefer. It was quite beautiful, with lot's of old trees. The one thing that stood out for me is how much character it had; from the old residences on the river bank, to even the university campus.

Later in the day we went to a small cafe downtown for lunch. After that we picked a few beers for me in preparation for watching the Grey Cup football final. My home team was in it, and although Michelle didn't particularly back the other team, she had a hard time supporting mine (a true Saskatchewan fan!). We decided not to go out for supper after the game and just ordered in a pizza. It was strange to me when I ordered it and failed the phone test; the voice had been working ok all weekend.

The next day would be Monday which meant I would be leaving. We were both tired, so packed it in a bit earlier. Michelle had two classes in the morning, one quite early. I decided to get up with her so I'd have lot's of time to get ready. I certainly didn't want to repeat the fiasco of coming. As much as I told her not to, I was still happy when she did skip the first class in order to see me off. It was a sad goodbye. I could have stayed there a long time.

There was a stop at the store to finally get some woman's magazines, a pit stop for gas, McDonalds to get my son a toy, the car return, baggage check, shopping for a present for my wife, security, and then reading a bit in the waiting area. No one treated me any less than with complete courtesy and politeness. The flight home was uneventful, except that my seat back wouldn't stay up. The man beside me was totally squished. I tried to make it more comfortable for him, moving the arm rest, etc. He finally found a empty seat one row up. The two obnoxious kids behind me were loud, and kept pushing the seat back. They were also, well... smelly from the derriere! I came very close to making a scene, but that of course, was what I was trying to prevent. When it came time to land, I kept getting into trouble from the stewardesses and steward to put my seat "in the upright position". Not one of them would let me explain the trouble, though I tried with all. They just seemed too busy. When we landed, the man who had moved was kind enough to get my coat for me. As I waited for my luggage, I noticed a few woman seemed to be sizing me up. I didn't care. It was probably because I'm 6 feet tall.

The bus back to my truck was waiting outside so I just got right on. Once again the driver, a nice East Indian fellow this time, wouldn't let me handle my bags. He, too was quite talkative. There was only one other passenger on the bus, and when we dropped him off, we headed for my vehicle. When I pointed out the 3/4 ton, 4x4 pickup, he asked, "What? Do you live on a farm or something?", "No, it's my husband's.", "You mean you're married?!", "Yes.", as I pointed to my (female) wedding ring. After a short pause he asked, "How long does it take you to do your makeup?", "About an hour." I lied, to which he exclaimed, "Well, I really like it!" I'm not sure if that meant he had read me or not, but again, I didn't care. At any rate, he carried my bags right to my door, and was perfectly polite. Paying the cashier girl on the way out would be the last "public performance" of my little adventure. I had arranged a rendezvous with a TG friend so I could change at her place. When I finally got home, my wife guessed I had flown back en femme, by a quick feel of my smooth face. I guess I could have gone straight home after all, except for the neighbours (junior was in school).

Michelle and Mandy were so kind, and did everything to boost my confidence. Michelle was a gem for letting me stay with her, and showing me around. The whole weekend had been quite a big deal for someone like myself. I'm still floating around on its memory. In Calgary, I had been out in the general public occasionally. Friends here and myself get out night clubbing on a regular basis, but it's always at "safe" alternate lifestyle (gay) bars. The most public places I'd spent a reasonable amount of time in were some local restaurants. As Mandy said later, "The Dairy Queen won't seem like much now." Being out of town seemed to help me forget my male identity completely. Although my confidence is at a high point, and I will be less nervous to go out in my home town, there is still the reality of that other self to deal with. I know people here, and there are a lot of memories associated with even physical locations. Of course, this will in no way stop me! The trouble is, the more I do get out as my feminine self, the more I want to, no, need to, again!


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