When I was in my early 20s, I hung around with an intellectual group from a local college. There was a teacher/writer there in her late thirties/early forties. She was a striking female, although not what one would call beautiful. 

 

She was in such good shape, her body was almost boyish. Her hair, a deep chesnut color, looked as if she chopped it off with a pair of scissors, while blindfolded. She had one of those husky whiskey and cigarette voices, although she indulged in neither. Somehow, it worked for her and there was always a group of young men hanging on her every word.

 

I'm from a small redneck town about 50 miles away. The guys I was hanging with were studying to be doctors and lawyers. None of them had her for a teacher, but she was known to be a very free thinker in matters of sex. Totally unlike the girls in my area, so naturally I was as fasinated as my buddies.

 

In a college town, there is always a lot of parties. She would show up in ragged jeans, an old tee shirt and braless. During the evening she would circulate, laughing and talking to everyone there and singling no one out. Around midnight, she would stand up, look around the room, point her finger at her choice of the evening and leave. You could set your watch by it.

 

Although I placed myself in her path repeatedly, she was indifferent to my attempts to get her attention. At the end of the year, she moved back to Atlanta where she was from and I thought, "Well, that's that.".

 

Several weeks later, I got a phone call from her, asking me to come up for the weekend. Elated, I packed my best underros and headed out, convinced I was in for a wild ride. Well, it was a wild ride alright, but I paid my dues first.

 

She was writing a story about Atlanta's Underground and had extensive notes on all the clubs, the musicians, local characters and a rough draft of the story. It looked good to me. Interesting, colorful and held my interest right to the end. However, she wasn't satisfied. She needed a hook and wanted to view the same places as a man.

 

About dressing as a man, she didn't exactly tell me that. What she did was send me on a wild goose chase for a special kind of shampoo. Anybody looking for something special in Atlanta is in for the scenic tour. I saw every specialty shop and drug store in the whole city. About 3 hours later, I returned to her apartment. There was a guy standing on the sidewalk and as I started past him, he asked for a light. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but I didn't dwell on it. Just handed him my lighter.

 

He lit his cigarette and handed it back to me. As I turned away, the SOB patted me on the a**.  Do I really have to tell you my reaction? If she hadn't burst out laughing, no doubt she would have had a black eye.

 

It was funny and if my mind had not been on getting her in bed, I might have caught on to what she wanted right then. I wish I could tell you, that her get up quelled my libido... but not.  However, the giggles about put me out of business.

 

Then she sprang it on me. She wanted to go clubbing dressed as a man. I was a little startled at first, but didn't really mind. After all it was a writing experiment. 

 

As we left her apartment, she was walking in front of me and I thought something looked familiar about the way she was walking. Then I cracked up. She was imitating my walk.

 

Women usually move their shoulders slightly, side to side in the opposite direction of their hip movement,  hence the wiggle. Men usually hold their shoulders straight and the movement is from the arm pits down.  Even when they slouch, both sexes still have those qualities in their body language.

 

We hit the first club just as the band started the first set and took a seat at the bar.  A couple of girls at the other end, smiled at us and she sent them a drink! I almost choked.  Within minutes, they were seated on either side of us .

 

I guess, I thought this was just going to be a foray for observation, not participation. I just didn't want to get in a bad scene, but everything went ok. The girls (a couple of hookers) soon lost interest in us and drifted away.

 

We changed location and the next club was in full swing. There were no seats available, so we slouched against the wall near the ladies room (where else? lol) Ok, this was going good. We were in a crowd, the music was loud and the room was smokey. The pulsating light from the stage made it hard to really get a good look at anybody . I turned to point something out and she wasn't there.

 

After a quick scan of the room, I knew exactly where she was and headed to the men's bathroom. Sure enough there she was leaning against the wall next to a couple of guys, waiting for the only stall in the place.  Good thing they were drunk, because in the bright florescent lighting her disguise did not look as good, as it did in the dim lit bar.

 

I squeeze in beside her, to block anybody's view of her and almost got my a** whipped. "Hey Bozo, wait your turn," one of them growled and I almost turned wrong side out. I'm tall, but lanky and this guy was big. Fortunately, he was about 3 sheets in the wind and let it slid

 

Nothing else happened there, so after laying down some ground rules we headed to the next place.