I am never forgetting a change of clothes again!
Wednesday night I went out with hot new man to a tapas bar the other side of town. If I had any chance of getting home I would have had to leave before I got there. I already established that HNM is not a serial killer, wasn't 100% sure whether or not he is a s*x fiend but hey I can always hope! So it was fine to crash at his place.
The tapas bar just happened to do my favourite Cava, (Castellblanch semi seco in case the producers are reading this and feel the urgent need to send me a lifetimes free supply in return for gratuous free advertising). In the supermarkets in Spain it is about £3. In the wine bar it was £18.50 a bottle.
Anyway, I arranged for them to hook me up via IV to a magnum sized bottle, at least that's what it felt like when I emerged from under a quilt sometime the next afternoon wearing a pair of hold ups and a necklace.
I made suitably pathetic noises until HNM appeared and asked me how i wanted it. (Disappointingly he had just put the kettle on for a cuppa!) I like my tea and my men hot, strong and exotic, but in my current ensemble of panda eyes and wraparound quilt I was not exactly alluring so I just muttered strong, not much milk and one sugar (why do men never have sweeteners?)
As I got ready to leave I realised there was a bit of a problem. HNM may have a few bizarre objects in his flat (including, rather worryingly, a tennis racquet and a hoover attachment placed next to each other), but one thing he does not possess (thank GOD, although I did not see it that way at the time) is a new pair of ladies undergarments (or an old pair come to that, thank god times infinity!!!).
So, as it was a warm day, I decided to go commando-ess. Unfortunately, it was rather breezy outside, and HNM (and his neighbours) were very nearly treated to an impromptu view of my...er...Lady Garden.
Negotiating the tube and its sudden gusts of wind (not from me, I hasten to add), was even worse. If you're female or a cross dresser, have you ever tried walking down an escalator carrying a large handbag, a bag full of mags and munchies for the tube, and a coat whilst holding your dress so tightly round you as to be practically mummified from waist to knees?
Well neither had I, and I honestly don't recommend it, but I eventually arrived home with my modesty (what there is of it) preserved.
On a positive note, I have a further date with HNM, despite him seeing me in the the panda eyes/quilt get up. Or, remebering the tennis racquet and hoover attachment, maybe BECAUSE of it???
