I Can Wear A Skirt To Work - Chapter 3

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Early the next morning, I drove over to Diane’s. While I was getting into my "uniform of the day", I began to doubt the wisdom of my insistence that the change stops at the waist. Last night, some of the women had expressed dismay at the overall image I presented. They had suggested that a complete makeover might be preferable, even from my point of view, since I would draw less attention that way than dressed half-and-half.

Next, I was confronted with the problem of what to do with the things I usually carried in my pockets. I didn’t find Diane’s suggestion, that I might need a purse, the least bit funny. I decided to leave behind everything except my wallet and comb. Fortunately, the skirt turned out to have side pockets, so I didn’t have to carry them in my hand.

Diane invited me to ride to work with her, so I left my car in her parking lot. I was oblivious, at the time, to the fact that this would effectively ensure that I’d have to see this through since I couldn’t drive anywhere to change - not to mention that my pants and shoes were locked inside her apartment!

The jokes and jibes didn’t last long that morning, because there were plenty of service calls to keep the technicians out of the office. That left just the office staff. Jean, of course, just had to tease me some - although she admitted, grudgingly, that I was handling my part rather well.

By mid-afternoon, the strain of dealing with the unaccustomed clothing was beginning to tell. I wobbled on those darned skinny heels even more than I had that morning, on the way down Diane’s stairs. My calves were sore from stooping so much to get into low file drawers. Finally, during one rush to get to the phone, I tripped, narrowly avoiding spraining my ankle, but breaking a shoe heel. Finding it hazardous to be hobbling around with one heel elevated, and the other not, I took Diane’s suggestion and removed both shoes, going about in my stocking feet. At day’s end, I put them on so I could hobble out to her car and, in turn, up the stairs to her apartment.

Along the way home, Diane had expressed generous praise for my performance that day. It paralleled that which I had already received from the office manager - especially about being a good sport and all. Nevertheless, inside the apartment, with Jean, Kate, and the others, she agreed with Jean’s assessment: I hadn’t done it entirely right.

"He broke the heel on the shoe; that’s not a successful completion," Jean complained.

Kate became my advocate.

"I suppose you’ve never broken a heel? He did as well as anyone I know, carrying on in spite of it."

Jean wasn’t about to concede easily.

"He not only broke the heel - but he also worked part of the day with no shoes on. The deal was skirts AND heels, all day."

"Don’t I at least get partial credit?" I asked. "I mean, after all, I did go the whole morning as agreed."

"The agreement was for the whole day."

Diane then suggested that I be allowed to make up the last part of the day.

Jean was adamant but saw that her support was eroding. Almost defensively, she insisted, "He broke the heel."

By now, my expression must have shown that I was becoming resigned to the notion that I’d done all this for nothing. At best, they had conceded that I had a legitimate alibi for the only part in the dispute, equipment failure.

"OK," Jean suddenly relented. "Teddie, do you want to try it again?"

"An hour and a half tomorrow?"

"Unh-uh. The whole day tomorrow."

I arranged my demeanor to reflect a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

"We’ll throw in four more dinners, to balance the good part of today," Diane offered.

I held off making a reply, but Jean must have seen my intent from my facial or body language. I was about to make a counteroffer, when she spoke with renewed firmness, "All, or nothing."

I stood up.

"Then, nothing," I declared.

Jean grinned victoriously.

"I told you he couldn’t hack it," she exclaimed to the group.

A voice from out of my line of vision decried, "Party Pooper."

"Why are all of you so anxious to get me into a skirt, anyway?" I demanded. "I’d have thought your main goal would be to keep me OUT of your skirts," I added, in an attempt to inject some humor.

Jean responded, "Who was so cocky about being able to do ANYTHING a woman could?"

"I never said that," I insisted. "I’m well aware that there are things that you ladies can do, which I, as a male, can’t even hope to."

"Maybe not so many as you were thinking, honey," advised a voice. It was Anita Wells, from the parts department.

As I turned so I could see her, she continued, "I was just reading, last week, about how researchers think they can implant an embryo on a man’s intestine,

and it will grow to term. You might not be able to conceive, but bearing a child may be within your reach."

At that description, I put my hand to my brow, while my face and neck glowed with embarrassment.

"Well, come on ‘Mr. Macho’, let us get you out of that skirt," Jean prodded. "We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were a sissy, now, would we?"

I glared at her.

"Was that the point of this whole deal? To see how much you could embarrass me?"

With the question still in my expression, I turned to face Diane, then Kate.

Diane spoke first, "It wasn’t like that at all, Ted. You were the one claiming you were capable of it; we just gave you an opportunity to prove or disprove it. And ... I did already told you that I thought you acquitted yourself very well."

"Ted," I heard Anita begin, "if you feel we weren’t fair, don’t forget that you were offered a chance to make it up."

Kate added, "Despite what Jean said, Ted, no one is going to think badly of you if you drop it. You made a good faith try, and I, for one, think you’ve earned another dinner, if not the whole week’s worth. If they don’t want to spring for it, I’ll do it myself.

"Thanks," I replied as I turned toward the bedrooms.

"On the other hand, if you want to try again," she looked around the room, "how about double or nothing?"

She got nods of agreement from the other women, albeit with widely varying enthusiasm.

I can hardly believe that I actually hesitated for a moment, considering her offer. However, I didn’t answer. Instead, I resumed my progress down the hallway.