I Can Wear A Skirt To Work - Chapter 2

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After work, Diane stopped at Cheryl’s and brought her up to date on events at the office, including my agreement.

Cheryl is a big girl not fat, but 71 inches tall and size 14. Reviewing Diane’s list, Cheryl noted that she could have supplied almost everything I’d needed. This led to an animated conversation and a trip through Cheryl’s closet and chest of drawers.

When I arrived at Jean’s apartment, I didn’t make much notice of the crowd of cars, until the door opened and I discovered that - seemingly - half of the women in the office were present.

"Dinner won’t be until eight," Diane announced. "In the meantime, you can get changed and try out your outfit."

"Why can’t we start after dinner?"

"Because we have lots of time now. Besides, then you can practice even while you are eating."

Again, I wasn’t thinking fast enough to ask what it might be that I’d need to practice, while sitting down to eat. It would be quite a while before it dawned on me that they intended for me to learn more about femininity than just adeptness at walking in high heeled shoes.

They sent me into the bathroom with an A-line skirt to put on in place of my slacks. In a tartan plaid, which barely reached the tops of my kneecaps, it presented a skittish appearance.

On returning, I have presented a pair of mid-height, black, T-strap pumps. When I had difficulty getting my feet into the close-fitting shoes, I was given a pair of slipper-like nylon half socks, which allowed my feet to slide right in.

Then my education began. I was drilled in walking, turning, sitting, and all I would need to know to be able to handle the thin heels and flaring skirt. Just about the time, I was beginning to feel accustomed to walking mainly on the balls of my feet, dinner was ready.

One thing I might have noticed, had I not been so preoccupied with my

situation, was that no one was digging at me, as had been the case during the day. It was almost as if I was being accepted into the conversation nearly as "one of the girls", even if most of what they had to say concerned my efforts to master the feminine graces, such as they considered appropriate for the role I was undertaking.

The training didn’t stop at dinner time. Comments were regularly directed my way, explaining that I shouldn’t sit like so, and to hold my fork like this, and to leave my other hand in my lap, and on, and on, throughout the meal. It was done in such an amicable way, that I couldn’t take offense, but instead adjusted my posture and gestures to meet with their approval.

When dinner was over, I offered to help with the cleanup, something which, when I thought about it later, surprised me. Kate suggested that to make the best use of my time, the ladies would do the washing and drying, and I could put things away, with Jean’s guidance. So, I found myself rushing back and forth across the kitchen, trying to keep up with the stream of dishes, pots, and pans being washed and dried.

By the time everything was in order again, I was most grateful for the chance to sit down. Even though the heels were barely over two inches high, my ankles were screaming for relief.

It was when I passed through the doorway from the bright kitchen into the more dimly lit living room that Kate discovered a problem.

"Ted, I’d hate to say this, but you’re going to need a slip under that skirt; I can see right through it, when you’re backlighted."

Some discussion followed, about what all a slip was for, and, although I was resistant to wearing one, I finally conceded that modesty was an important issue.

Jean, having caught just the end of the conversation, hastily added that something ought to be done about my hairy legs, too, which immediately brought me to the edge of canceling the whole deal. Diane was ready for this, too, and suggested that opaque hose would solve the problem.

When all the details regarding my wardrobe had been settled, I drove home and went straight to bed. As I was drifting off into sleep, a thought barely flickered across my mind. Just how had everything been on hand - in the right colors, even - to cover the changes they had thought up?