Wonders never cease

It's not like cross-dressing is extremely disturbing to me. Or unusual. I do work in San Francisco, and I've pretty much seen it all.

But when 6+ foot tall man, with a mustache and really broad shoulders is at the Fremont BART station in a t-shirt, short skirt, nylons and heels, you can't help but stare.

Of course this was the morning my husband was totally lagging and missed the whole thing. I hopped on the escalator ahead of my husband, so when he got on, I turned around and mouthed, "look up." And, as usual, my husband said, "Huh?" Which lost time. By the time he got that I was telling him to look up, the man was walking towards the Richmond train (which makes it even stranger since I thought for sure he was going to SF), and my husband missed him again.

When we were walking by the Richmond train, I told my husband to look inside at the man sitting at the front of the car. He did.

"What? The man wearing shorts?" he asked me.

"No....."

"What? What then?"

"A skirt....high heels....," I said.

"NO WAY! You're lying!" my husband informed me.

"NOOOOO....I'm not. He's wearing high heels, a skirt and nylons."

"Did he have a nice top on?"

"No, he wore a t-shirt," I said. I don't think that man could have found a nice top to match his skirt unless he went to the big gals clothing store.

"You're lying!" my husband kept saying.

It's not my fault he can't read lips. And he says I'm bad when he's trying to get me to look at things on the sly.

In a way I just feel bad for the guy because he's never going to look like a woman, if that's what he was really trying to do (part of me wants to believe he was doing it because of a bet). And the mustache is just a dead give-away. But I do have to give him kudos for going out in the world like that. And he did have nicer legs than I ever will.