Who Called the Fire Department?

Connie responded to my post yesterday concerning when I answered the front door with no make up:

"Dressing like that is what I call "BLANDING IN." I went grocery shopping this morning, and I'm sorry to say that I felt over-dressed, wearing skinny jeans, work-out jacket, and tennis shoes. I even saw two women in pajama bottoms! I don't know if these women stay that way all day, or if they just don't care what they look like when doing errands early in the morning. Maybe they go home and spend the afternoon getting all dolled up before their husbands come back from work. Remember that awful old sexist song, "Wives and Lovers?" 

It is very rare that I ever answer the doorbell. Of course, not that many years ago, I used to actually run and hide in the bathroom whenever I heard someone at the door, fearing they may see me "dressed up" if they should go around and peep through a window. And I would be all dressed up in those days, too! There was nothing ever comfortable about cross dressing - not in the choice of clothing, and not in the prospect of a confrontation. No makeup, sweat pants and a comfy sweater may be bland, but that look is more apt to blend than is looking like you're ready to go to a cocktail party in the middle of the day. :-)"

I get dressed to "blend" more than "bland" when I go to the store, but not (as you call) "cocktail party" ready. 

Someday I will have to write a post about when a fire truck was setting outside our house when my deceased wife got home. I was in the shower trying to erase all vestiges of cross dressing when she arrived panicked. I could only guess what I would have done if I had actually saw the fire truck and tried to "undress." 

As it was, I didn't fool my wife and caught hell anyway.

She always said I would lead her to an early grave. She passed away at fifty.

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