Monday, August 19, 2013


Every word that I write is true.  Longtime readers know of my history of trying to find satisfaction in dressing up in my best/worst and going out for some humiliation.  Though I've on occasion gotten a little bit of embarrassment, it's largely lacked...initiative?  I had tried pizza places, donut shops, and aside from some fun in Halloween very little.

Turns out I was just trying the wrong place.  I was away for some corporate training far from home and decided one night to pursue this little hobby of mine, but had the idea to be a little more....studious.  Rather than drive in circles building up courage, ready to receive my mockery once everything had closed, I got smart.

First of all, I did little things to boost my confidence.  Walking through the mall wearing a red bracelet that read "directioner" followed by a heart did little but was a good start.  I was taking a risk.

Then I kept my shorts and shoes on but changed into a Rainbow Brite top and necklace and got some ice cream.  The girl did not react one bit, though I'm not sure the three cashiers really needed to gather at the register just inside the window...

Then I realized, wait a minute.  I needed to go to a place where people mocking others was encouraged.  I went to a local "Tilted Kilt".  For those not too familiar with the chain, it's basically the Hooters ethic and mindset but with more of a Scottish overlay.  So about 40 minutes before closing, I called them.  Informed them that a guy would be coming in wearing what I was wearing, and looking for a waitress job application, and could they make the occasion a memorable one?  The lady who answered the phone laughed and said she'd talk with her manager and work something up.

So twenty minutes later in I walked.  Those bored with detail can skip down a ways as I want to describe how I was attired.

I had on a little pale blue jean skirt with a green and blue plaid ruffle.  It was short, short enough that I was a little nervous that my blue panties that read "AMAZING" in pink glitter might peek out.  It covered my rear but not much more than that.  No leggings or anything, and a pair of slip-on sequined leopard-print ballet flats.  Up above, my new favorite thing - a pink padded bra that gives me just the right amount of cleavage.  Over that was a tight neon pink tank top, and over that a open-necked white crop tee with a large graphic of a lip print in pink and black leopard pattern..  The full effect was girlish, with hemlines shifting both top and bottom making it just about possible to adjust everything so that my midriff doesn't show and nor do my bra straps.  But just barely.

I had three rubber bracelets on that read in turn "single" "text me" and "love" and a necklace with absurdly large "I [heart] One Direction" pendant, and another with a purple leopard-pattern heart dangling.  Plus I ditched my prescription eyeglasses for these fake ones with pink and black frames.  With worse vision, and blurry fake lenses, it made me even more vulnerable as my vision was impacted.

So I spent five minutes in the car before I bucked up courage and walked in.  The place had about 20 customers in it, and to my shock nobody at the hostess desk.  So I stand there, adrift, squinting a bit to figure out the next step.  Meanwhile I'm aware that every patron had likely registered my appearance in this depressingly well-lit bar.  I drifted behind a nearby table for what little good it did hiding my legs.  Finally, whether purposeful or not, it became clear I had to go into the place to complete this mission.

I walked up to the bar surrounded by patrons.  True, nobody laughed or gawked or pointed, but I was aware of how much I stood out, leaning slightly on the bar in this ridiculous outfit.  The bartender saw me and affected a bit of a posh accent saying "we've been waiting for you, darling".  I faked surprise, and she refused to even say if anyone had called.  I finally asked for the job application and she said she'd "see her manager".  She went into the kitchen.

And I waited.

and waited.

I looked at the bar stool, considered hopping up.  But with a skirt that short, would be panties show in the back...or the front?  I decided to play it safe. Was she taking her sweet time on purpose?  Who knew, but I decided that this was a pretty good sense of how it likely feels for a woman to be "on display" in an outfit of their choosing.  My clothing screamed out look at me.

Finally she came out.  I will confess to being a bit relieved. This exposure was a little for a scaredy cat like me, and I was ready to get back into the car.   The barkeep walked over to me and put down a small packet on the bar, with a sparkly blue pen.  "Okay, fill this out and a manager will come over to talk to you. Okay, sweetie?"

I looked up, a bit sharply.  "Fill it Now?"  I may have squeaked a little.

She smiled a bit evilly and nodded.  She gave me a steady glare, the kind that a fetchingly clad woman needs to have in a bar.  What was I to do?

So here I am attired like a sixteen year old looking for a party, filling out a Tilted Kilt application at the bar.  Talk about on display.  It was horrible.  It was thrilling.

Now, I do have two regrets.  The first was that I was a bit on overload, and I started to fill out the application "out of character".  I filled it out as a male, close to who I am (not exactly...wasn't giving them my social security number).  Hand trembling a bit I went through all the statements, work experience, references...the thing seemed neverending.  I'm pretty sure I got the date wrong I was so nervous...

About ten minutes later, I looked up, done.  She smiled and walked over, coming around the bar.  She took the application and nuzzled up to me a bit the way they are expected to in this place.  Blinking her eyes, she asked me "do you really want a manager to come up and talk to you?"  That's my second regret as I shrugged my shoulder and mumble something about if that is what happens next.  The barkeep gave me a I've-tortured-you-enough look and said "you don't have to".  So I nodded, and she resumed "someone will look this over and give you a call in the next thirty days, sweetie."

I turned and walked out, with the other waitress calling out "thanks for visiting sweetie.  I love your outfit!"

And that was that.    I breathed heavily, and the dopamine flooded my brain.  Wow that was awesome.
   I gotta keep an eye out for those places.

Friday, August 9, 2013


In Master's telling, it goes like this.  Someone at work was commenting when some new shirts were being passed out that it was "just like high school".  Apparently, she said, at her school cheerleaders were constantly decorating shirts with fabric paint, ribbon, etc. for "various occasions" Master had a huge smile while telling me this.

He has already assigned me the colors blue silver and white, and said my team is the "Knights".  I ask you loyal readers, for what occasions would these shirts be made?  I'm guessing it's just not "the days before the game".  Is it about the team, or the squad?  Other squads?  A specific occasion?

Best ideas in the comments will result in a shirt made by me posted later on....

Tuesday, August 6, 2013


Master says I've been too shy lately, so I'm posting this selfie that I just took on my comp.  A coupla things you might notice:

I LOVE accessories...I a wearin 10 bracelets and 6 necklace
I LOVE iD but you already new that
I can be a little bit of a flirt teehee

So one last thing, this is HARD.  Because Master knows I need to take care of my stuff, I have to be very careful to take off the necklcaes in the order I put them on so they don't get tangled.  Sometimes I do it wrong, and it takes half an hour to take them off.  IKR?

Friday, August 2, 2013

Selectively deaf

"Is your loan going to be a good deal at that rate?" was the answer I asked.  Probably a dumb question, of course.  Not dumb the way that Master likes but in the way that I ask.  Master was on the phone with the bank, talking about interest rates and all that.  He's buying a car.

I asked brightly, smiling as I am supposed to, showing interest.  It might have been the word "rate" showing my knowledge of the principle of interest.  Perhaps the fact that I had obviously tracked the conversation, but once I again I was too smart.  What to do, what to do?

Well, Master made a proposal about my allowance soon after.  I would end up getting a lot at the beginning of the month, but having to pay it back at the end under certain conditions.  In other words, I was going ot get less money.  And I was obviously expected to take it.  Which I did.

So my stupid question caused a cut in my allowance.   That's all.