This is another real oldie from circa 2010/2011

It was a normal Saturday and I was doing my weekly grocery shopping on virtual autopilot. You know what I mean. You buy the same items from the same shelves at the supermarket every week unless they had moved everything just for the sake of moving it and to annoy their customers.

I’d gotten everything on my mental list and was now at the checkout waiting to be served. I refused to use those automated or self-service checkout unless there was really no other option.

“Good Morning Ms Samuels. How are you today?”

I was jolted out of my daydream by these words.

I looked at the person who had interrupted my wait at the Supermarket Checkout.

He smiled at me,

“Who do you think you…?” I stopped as I sort of recognized the angelic face on the man in front of me in the queue.

“You don’t remember me then?” he said with a slight smile on his face, “don’t worry, most people do that. I seem to have a face that doesn’t stick in people’s minds. I was the driver of the rescue truck that came out to your broken-down Mercedes 500SEL. Sandy Johnson at your service.”

He did a little bow at the waist.

I remembered his greeting that dark stormy night. I smiled and relaxed.

“Ah, that godforsaken car. Sadly, it was a relic from my ex. It was always shit and that was the final straw. Yes, I do remember you now.”
I ventured a slight smile in return.

“Thanks. How are you anyway? I didn’t know you lived around here now. If my memory is correct, I took the both you and the stricken Merc to a house near Colchester that stormy night?”

I smiled as I remembered the help and consideration that he'd shown towards me that night.

“Yes, you are right but I moved here a few months ago. I’m coaching basketball at the sports centre.”

We talked for a few more moments until my gaze went to his shopping basket. He saw me and tried to cover up two of the items in it.

He went white in the face and turned away to get his items through the checkout as quickly as possible. This meant that I saw the two packets of fishnet tights he had tried to hide.

He paid and left me waiting my turn to pay.

“Here. Hold these. I’ll be back in a minute,” I said giving my basket to the checkout operator.

I left her holding the basket with a mouth doing a very good impression of a drowning fish.

Now that I was free of the basket, I walked rapidly out of the store and looked for him in the car park. I saw him getting into a beautifully restored open top MGB-GT. I ran over and got to it just as he started up the engine.

“Please stop Mr. Johnson.”

He was not really pleased to see me in front of him.

He looked at me slightly puzzled.

“I’m sorry to embarrass you like that. I didn’t mean it.”

He didn’t react.

“Let me buy you a coffee and Danish and I can try to make amends.”

Grudgingly, he agreed,

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to put you to any trouble?”

He switched off the engine and eased his large frame out of the car.

Eye to eye we were about the same height. 6ft 3in. It was lucky that I was not wearing heels today. Still, he was a good height for playing basketball.

“Mines a Latte. I’ll stow these groceries in the boot and join you in the cafe.”

I took the hint and walked slowly back into the store. As I went through the doors I glanced over my shoulder and saw him close the boot and begin to slowly follow me back towards the store.

Slightly relieved I went into the Coffee Shop and ordered 2 Latte’s and a couple of Apple Danish pastries. I felt someone close to me and looked around. It was him.

“Let me take the tray,” he offered.

“Thanks.”

I paid for the drinks and we sat down at one of the few empty tables.

It was quite early on the Saturday Morning. 08:20 to be exact. The place was only just open and still quiet but the coffee shop was almost full of people drinking expensive heated water and many were fiddling with their phones.

“I’m sorry Mr. Johnson. Prying like that was inexcusable,” I said offering my hopefully sincere apologies.

“Thanks. I owe you an apology for reacting like that.”

“No, it was all my doing. I should not have stared like that. It was totally uncalled for.”

“You said that you were coaching Basketball. A year and a half or so ago, you were playing for England and weren’t you married to a Premier League Footballer?” He said changing the subject.

“Eighteen Months is a long time in sport,” I replied with a big sigh.

He saw my reticence.

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s quite all right,” I replied. “Your memory is perfectly correct.”

“That night changed my life so I have you to thank or to blame. I’m not sure which.”

He looked worried.

“Actually, I have you to thank,” I said smiling.
“When you delivered me and that heap of a car of mine home I found my cheating husband in bed with a younger model. Otherwise known as a busty blonde bimbo”. I guess he was embarrassed or insecure at being married to someone taller and more intelligent than himself.”
“I got into a huge rage and threw her out into the rain still naked while you were unloading the Merc from your truck. I chucked her clothes out after her. My cheating husband went after her not long after you had gone.”

“You divorced him then?” he inquired.

“You obviously don’t read the ‘Red Tops’ then?” I replied almost laughing.

He shook his head.
“Those bottom feeding publications are not my sort of thing really,” he said with a straight face.

“In one of them, the bastard tried to make out it was me who had been cheating on him. Then a reporter from a rival paper saw him with her in a compromising position.”

That put him on the defensive. He tried to hide a whole load of his assets from me in the divorce. His sudden exit from out home meant that he left a whole load of compromising documents behind. As a result, I knew how much he was earning each week. We had all the evidence prepared for the divorce hearing when I went away to play for England in an International in Vienna.”

“What happened then?”

“What happened then was he came to a match for the first time. I still don’t know why he did it. Just to annoy me I suppose. About ten minutes into the game I was sent on. I soon got the ball and then saw him in the crowd and lost concentration and gave away two points. Then my day went from bad to worse when couple of minutes later I went up for a ball and landed badly. So badly, I broke my anterior cruciate ligament in my left knee. That ended my professional career.”

“What about the divorce?”

“In the end, I had my day in court. Being in a wheelchair helped my cause. His side tried to claim that I was putting it on but as he’d seen me get injured it failed miserably. The two huge scars on my knee also helped. In the end, my barrister got him by the short and curlies and thankfully, I ended up with 85% of his estate rather than the 50% normally awarded. That god-awful car was included in the settlement. I sold it first chance I had and to hell with losing a lot of money on it. There were far too many bad memories of him doing you-know-what in it so it had to go. Anyway, with my career gone, I sold that heap of tat we called a home and rented somewhere temporary while I got my knee working again. Then I got a job here about 9 months ago. I bought a smaller house just outside of town and tried to get on with my life.”

He sensed I was not finished so he gave me an opening.

“And? What about your life? From what I can remember of you from that night your appearance has changed a bit?”

It was my turn to get embarrassed.

He sensed this.

“I’m sorry. I should not have been so forward.”

“Ha-ha. I guess we are even then?”

“Don’t worry. Most people don’t see the changes. All they see is a very tall woman. Sometimes I wonder if spending the money was worth it.”

“From what I see, it is worth it.”

“Thank you kind sir. Your compliments are duly noted.”

He laughed.

“Yes, I have had some minor ‘cosmetic’ changes to my body, mainly for my own vanity I must add but it is rather nice for someone to notice. Most people don’t notice or don’t want to tell me that they have noticed out of politeness.”

It was my turn to change the subject.

“What about you? From what I remember you weren’t married?”

“No, still not married. Still driving a rescue truck rescuing damsels in distress and all sorts of other odd-balls for a living,” he answered in a slightly resigned manner.

“It has it’s moments though. I rescued a man last month who was driving without any clothes on. Luckily, I had a spare overall in my truck.

Didn’t get it back though but I’m not sure if I wanted them back really…”

I didn’t need the degree in psychology I had to sense that my next question would make or break our possible relationship.

“Are you seeing anyone serious at the moment?”

“No, I’m like you a tall person. Most women feel insecure about being seen out with someone who is usually about a foot taller than them. Even in heels they get attacks of self-consciousness about the size difference.”

I laughed.

“What so funny?”

“It was just like that with my ex. He refused to go out with me wearing anything higher than one-inch high heels. Since I had my body makeover, I feel free to wear high heels. I recently bought some Louboutin’s with 5in heels, which just I adore. There is nothing as strange as folk though.”

He laughed and blushed quite noticeably.

“Would you wear them for me?” he asked hesitantly.

“Why kind sir? Are thou asking me out on a date?” I replied coyly as I continued our little game.

He smiled at my reply.

“Yes. I suppose I am doing just that.”

“Then kind sir, I accept your kind offer with one condition.”

“What is that my fair lady?” he asked.

“If I wear heels then you must as well?” I replied softly so that we could not be overheard.
He went red in the face.

I took hold of his hand.

“Don’t worry Sandi. I think we will make a fine couple.”

I looked him in the eye.

“Am I correct in my understanding that you like to dress up? I sort of got the hint from your shopping basket.”

A slight nod of his head said yes. His eyes were looking at the now empty coffee cups.

“I do too. So, we can do it together. A problem shared is a problem halved.”

He moved closer to the table. But, not before I saw the swelling between his legs that he was trying to hide.

“Why don’t you come to my house for dinner tonight? We can get to know each other better,” I asked trying not to notice his erection.

“Ok” He said very nervously.

We finished out coffee and walked out to the car park. I made a point in holding his hand quite tightly.

He folded his frame into the MGB.

“How do you fit into this small car?”

He chuckled.

“With difficulty but I enjoy driving it with the top down.”

“You really need a bigger car?”

“I know but I can’t afford it.”

“This must be worth a few quid?”

“Yes, but I have spent over a thousand hours getting it to this state.”

“This state?”

“It won best MGB at last years’ Classic Car Show,” he answered proudly.

“So, what is it worth then?”

“About ten grand.”

“You could get a larger car for that with some change”

“Yes, but I like this one. I have spent so long working on it that it has become almost a part of me. I don’t expect you understand.”

“Not really. Cars to me are for getting from A to B. Are you a… What is it called? Ah. A Petrol Head?”

“Not on your life. I like cars because they don’t answer back except to go wrong!”

We both laughed at that.

I scribbled my address and phone number on his till receipt which was still lying on the passenger seat.

“I’ll see you at seven. Ok?”

“Yes” he said slightly nervously.

“Good. I’m quite a good cook if I have someone to cook for so I’d better get back in the store and do some shopping.”

With that he drove off.

I watched him drive off until and stood there quite a while after he was out of sight. Then my whole body gave an involuntary shiver. That was the first time that I’d ever done the picking up of someone for a date. Then I started having second thoughts.

“Will I see him and more importantly her, tonight?” I asked myself as I cooked up the menu for the evening.

---

Despite my best intents, I spent most of the day in a virtual panic. What with cleaning the house, myself and preparing food, it was well after 6pm before I even began to think about what to wear. In a state of near panic, I went upstairs and surveyed my wardrobe.

It was if I was 15 again. Nothing was right for my date. I remembered back to one event when I was 16. My date never even commented about what I was wearing. All he wanted to do was get off with my current ‘best friend’ Susan. She was not on my Christmas Card list after leaving the party with my date for the night. I chuckled to myself as I remembered how she was briefly the centre of attraction after we found out that he had knocked her up and refused to admit it was his. That was until her dad went around to his home and ‘sorted out’ his dad. Last time I had heard about her, she was the mother of three by the time she was 20. Ugh! I shivered as I thought about having so many babies so young.

The thought briefly crossed my mind about having a baby by Sandi and how it would react to having 2 mothers?

“Don’t go there girl! You are getting ahead of yourself. There are a huge number of barriers to cross before we get that far,” I said to myself more than once.

I took a good swig from the glass of Red Wine that I was drinking. It was part of my settlement with my lecherous ex-husband. With all the income and endorsements that came with being a top-flight footballer, he spent a lot of it before he wised up and took some advice about investing all that money. One of those investments been in wine. Some of the advice was good but much downright bad and verging on obscene. This bottle was part of the good advice. A 1995 Chateau Laffite Premier Cru. After nearly 25 years it was in its prime, very smooth and exceedingly drinkable. My ex was a total ignoramus when it came to the wine. I picked my cut of the wine cellar very carefully. This was one of the first wines that I selected. All 50 cases of it. Most had been sold in my general downsizing but I kept 10 cases for my own consumption on occasions tonight.

Another panic thought crossed my mind. What if he didn’t drink? Or had no taste for good wine? I pushed them to the back of my mind and got on with the task at hand.

I pondered over my selection of dresses. In the end, a simple black dress was the natural choice. I dressed with some anticipation. If he didn’t show up then I had a good meal already prepared and a good wine in which to drown my sorrows.

As I zipped myself into the dress I felt really nervous perhaps, for the first time in years. The last time my stomach butterflies were as rampant as this was just before I mad my debut for England. I hoped that this would be a good first date and not a total disaster. It had been a very long time since my last first real date and that was an unmitigated and humiliating failure for me at the time.

---

Last of all, I stepped into my 5in Louboutin’s as I had promised. I thought how less than three years ago my ex had almost scared me into never wearing heels ever again. I have long, long legs and heels make them appear even longer. I felt sad though at having to wear at least 40 denier black tights or stockings due to the scarring on my right knee because of the 6 operations I had over a few short months to try to correct my ligament injury. All were doomed to failure. I had thought about having some plastic surgery to repair the damage but so far, I had not gotten around to consulting a surgeon about having the procedure performed. I’d had enough of the surgeon’s knife for the time being.

At least the skirt of my dress covered my knees when I was seated. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt some goosebumps spread up my bare arms. In a moment of panic, I grabbed a white pashmina and wrapped it around my bare shoulders.

With a last preen in the mirror, I suddenly thought that Sandi (Yes, I had modified his name into the female form) would not show up for our date.

I sat down at my dresser and began to apply my makeup. I was still a relative novice at this part of female attire. I usually went for the minimal is best look. Tonight, I pushed the boat out and even applied some mascara, a job I hate at the best of times. Today was even worse as I had problems due to my hand shaking with anticipation.

I finished and looked at the clock. Five to seven. Fuck. I realized I had not put any nail varnish on. Shit. I’ll just have to do without.

I went downstairs making a mental note to do my nails well in advance of a date, to await my guest.

I kept looking at the clock. Time was passing exceedingly slowly. At five past I stood up and said,

“Fucking bastard. He has stood me up.”

I’d just poured myself a very large glass of wine when I heard the sound of his MGB on the gravel drive to my home.

---

I quickly put the feelings of an instant before out of my mind. I went to the door and opened it to greet my visitor.

As I saw him getting out of the car I felt a might disappointed. He was dressed as a man.

Then I kicked myself. What was I thinking? Why would I think let alone expect that he would come ‘en-femme’.

“Stupid dumb female,” I said to myself. “This is a frigging first date for heavens’ sake.”

I took a deep breath and concentrated upon greeting my visitor. Sandi was the first person I had dated since I had dated that bastard whom I later married and divorced. I was as nervous as hell.

Those infamous words from ‘Dad’s Army’ came to mind more than once, ‘Don’t Panic’.

I chuckled as I then remembered that those were the very same words that appeared on the Hitch-hikers guide to the Galaxy. I wondered if there was some connection? There probably was but there was no time to worry about it. I checked my hair one more time in the hallway mirror and waited.

My mind went off on another tangent that was only interrupted by the ringing of my front -door bell.

I took another breath and hopefully warmly greeted Sandi.

“Hi Sandi. I’m glad you came,” I said smiling as I opened the front door.

He smiled. He was as nervous as me.

I gave him a quick peck of a kiss on his cheek.

“Welcome to my home.”

“I’m glad to be here and thanks for inviting me.”

I led him into the lounge and gave him a glass of wine.

“I’ve kept my part of the bargain. I’m wearing heels.”

“And they look really good on you.”

“I can tell that you appreciate them,” I replied trying to look a little coy.
I wasn’t sure I succeed.

He took a sip of his wine.
“I suppose it is my turn?” he asked slightly nervously.

“Don’t worry if you want to back out this time Sandi. I’ll understand.”

“No. A deal is a deal. I have some things in the car. I’ll get them.”

“Are you sure?”

“No… I’m not. You will be the first… The first woman I have dressed up for.”

“I don’t believe you,” I replied.

“It is true. I have kept everything very much to myself until now.”

“Why?”

“Embarrassment mostly. How many women do you see who are over 6ft tall. Present company excepted that is…”

I chuckled. He laughed. We were both starting to relax.

I watched as he fetched a medium sized hold-all and a garment bag from his car.

As Sandi came back into the house I said,

“You can use the bedroom at the front of the house to get changed.”

“Thanks,” came his slightly nervous reply.

“If you need any help, just give me a shout?”

Sandi nodded his head as he headed for the stairs.

I spent the next 45 minutes pacing around, checking on the food and drinking far too much.

Every minute dragged on for ages but eventually I heard the sounds of heels on the wooden stairs.

Trying not to seem too anxious I waited in the Lounge. I heard him/her come into the room and turned to see a very pretty woman standing in front of me.

“Wow. You look gorgeous,” I said totally surprised at the wonder that stood before me.

Sandi was wearing a black suit. The skirt was mid-calf in length and quite slim cut. The matching black jacket had underneath it a white scoop necked blouse. Black fishnets adorned her legs and true to my desires, she wore black court shoes with at least a 4in heel.

On her hands were what appeared to be black fishnet gloves.

One her head was a shoulder length Auburn wig. His glasses had gone and were had been replaced with green contact lenses. The eyes were perfectly made up and kohl lined for effect. Her lips were perfectly covered in a deep red lip-gloss.

“Thank you but I look like a bloke in Drag.”

The voice that answered was sultry and a real turn on.

“Are you sure you have never dressed for anyone?”

“No. Unless you count playing an Ugly Sister in Panto.”

I laughed at the suggestion.

“No. That doesn’t count. Believe me Sandi, you look gorgeous and I could eat you now.”

Before he could react, I apologized,

“I’m sorry for that last bit. I got a bit carried away.”

“No problem,” came her very nervous reply.

She hesitated.

“Are you going to offer your guest a drink?” she said holding up and empty glass.

“Oh. I’m so sorry. I was totally taken aback with how good you look.”

I poured her a drink and we chinked glasses.

“Cheers and thank you for coming tonight”

“I’m glad I came. You are a beautiful woman. Any man should feel proud to have you as a partner.”

“What about a Woman?” I said without thinking.

“Eh?”

“I’m sorry. That is typical of me and my big mouth. Can you forget I ever said that?”

“Ok,” she replied not really convincingly.

“Come on Sandi. Lets’ eat?”

Over the course of the next few hours I started to get to know the real Sandy/Sandi. More and more I got to like Sandi. I didn’t see a man in drag but a beautiful and intelligent woman.

After dinner and more delightful conversation I sensed that Sandi was thinking about going home.

“You can stay the night if you want. The bed in the room where you changed is all made up. Besides, I think you may have had more than the legal amount to drink?”

“You are right. I probably have had a bit too much but you have been such a gracious host and I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”

“Sandi, outstaying your welcome in my home is something you will never do,” I replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Sandi, this evening, I have seen you let your guard down for probably the first time ever and what I see underneath is a kind and sensitive person who should not be kept hidden. I remember that night we first met. Upon reflection after tonight, I never thought of you as a man but as someone who I could trust implicitly. You have a unique gift.”

Sandi thought for a moment before replying,

“Perhaps that is why I have so many good comments from the Women I attend. Many of my male colleagues have a really hard time dealing with what we call the ‘Fluffy bits’.

Things that may not seem important to a man but are vital to a woman.”

“That’s it. Your feminine side enables you to understand what women need in those times of stress. I felt that then and tonight, well, you have just blown me away.”

Sandi looked puzzled.

Without thinking I said.

“Sandi, I think I have really fallen for you. You are kind sensitive and … wonderful and …”

Sandi looked at me and burst into tears.

I tried to hold her hand. She refused and left the table and dashed as fast as her skirt would allow upstairs.

I sat stunned at my total ineptitude. I’d found someone that I could relate to and put my sodding big feet right in it.

Before I could move, I heard her come downstairs carrying her bag and before I knew it, the door slammed shut.

I heard the car drive off and the house was silent apart from the thumping of my heart.
"How could I have been so stupid?" I muttered to myself.

I sat for the best part of an hour just staring into space.

Finally, I got up and climbed the stairs and went to bed.

As I removed my makeup (Sandi could have taught me a lesson or two in this department) I saw myself in the mirror.

“You really blew it tonight my dear. Sandi was… Sandi is someone special, really special.”

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much that night.

---

Over the following weeks, I kept a keen lookout for Sandy in his breakdown truck or at the Supermarket. I didn’t know exactly where she/he lived. I even searched the electoral roll in the library but to no avail.

One day about couple of months or so later, I was in the supermarket when I saw someone who at first glance was Sandy. I approached them only to find it was another person from the same company. I decided to ask them about Sandy.

“Excuse me?”

He turned.

I smiled.

“I’m sorry to bother you. Do you know someone from your Company called Sandy?”

He looked sad.

“I used to. Sandy gave his notice and left about a month ago. He was our best employee. We were all sad to see the gentle giant leave. Why do you ask?”

“He rescued me about 6 months ago. I wanted to thank him,” I replied lying through my teeth.

“He was very popular with the women and how he helped and comforted them.”

Before I could say anything, he continued.

“Don’t get me wrong. He never flirted with them or anything. He just made sure that they were well, treated like women and looked after. More than one has said it was if they were being rescued by a woman. He tried to get us to understand but none of us could ever get close to the way he handled them. It was a real sad day when he left.”

“Have you seen him since?” I asked.

“No, his house is up for sale. I think he is leaving the area.”

“That is a shame. I would like to send him a letter of thanks.”

“No problem. Let me write down his address.”

He wrote down an address about a mile from the store.

“Thank you ever so much,” I said as he handed the slip of paper to me.

“If you could get him to change his mind we would all be thankful.”

With that, we parted company.

---

After leaving the store, I drove to the address. Sure enough there was a “Sold” sign outside the house.

I got out of my car and went up the path. I hesitated more than once but carried on thinking 'to hell with this. I'm here and I have to do this..."

I knocked on the door and waited.

At that moment, I had no idea about what I would say if the door was answered.

After what seemed an interminable delay the door opened. There stood Sandy. He was obviously doing some cleaning due to the flowery apron and rubber gloves that he was wearing.

Seeing him again totally disconnected my mouth from my brain. All logic went down the drain.

“Sandi, I love you. Will you marry me?”

It just came out.

He cried like a little child.

Then I managed to connect my brain again and realised that what I'd said came right from my heart. I instinctively knew that I meant it and I had to do everything I could to keep Sandy/Sandi in my life.

I took him in my arms and gently ushered him inside. I kicked the door closed with my heels and then kissed him deeply. Eventually, he returned the kiss.

The end

[Authors note]
So many TG stories start with the description of the hero/heroine being of average or below average height and slim build. This annoys me so I decided to write one where the main characters are… well not average height but well above it. I’m well over 6ft and used to be play Rugby (No 8 Forward) so passing in public as a female, is… well impossible. Yet, I love wearing heels and have done since I bought a pair of Platforms in 1972. I have a pair of Red 4in heels that I love to wear around the house (mind you, I have to duck when going through a couple of doors). If only there was a woman out there who could understand me and accept that I might look better in heels than she does… You can always dream, can’t you?