Squirrel Cage (15 page)

I had never successfully been able to go out in public and “pass”
myself as female after puberty
.
I had several wigs but they consistently failed to work for me. Typically wigs need work.
I did not know this.
I only knew that “my hair” always looked totally wrong.
Although I still had many problems to overcome, I knew that this one thing was perhaps the most important.

I don’t know where I picked it up but I have a system for attacking a problem.
In business, I would use the 80/20 rule.
20 percent of the real issues create 80 percent of the problems.
All
I
had to do was figure out a way to measure the process and
I’d
be able to clearly identify those big problems.
Now the 80/20 thing I learned somewhere in business school or some quality program. But
…
it is a thing so intuitive, it’
s something that I’ve always used.

So here I was, analyzing a problem.
How to better pass as a woman. Let’s look at this.
“You are freaking crazy!” yelled
Squirrel
.

“Okay, shut up,” I told myself.
How do I work on this problem when I have no idea what to do?
I drilled through the library one day. Not much there on wigs. I studied articles on fixing hair. I was clueless in this regard as well. I’ve never been able to properly fix my hair.

I had a stop in Austin during a business trip and manag
ed to meet up with one of my on
line acquaintances.
She took me home and helped explain how to better do my make up. She also let me try on some wigs and showed me a bit of how to prep them. She didn’t solve the problem but I could clearly see some improvement in my appearance with her help.

I noted the make up tips for later reference. I knew that from her help, that I needed REAL help. I knew no one else. I had no one to give me additional advice. I was traveling
a lot on business, taking my other suitcase along,
and I was going to get into some real trouble. I could not stop myself. If I did not get this passing thing down, someone was going to kill me.
There were so many times that I was laughed at and followed. I had snowballs, rocks, and sticks thrown at me. Security guards threatened me everywhere I went.

Finally, while attending a trade show in San Francisco, I decided to deal with this issue.
San Francisco would be THE place to do the deed. I noticed that there was a wig and hair salon one half block away from the Saint Francis Hotel where I was staying. My time was free after the trade show. I called while at the conference and made an appointment for 5:30.

I arrived straight from the trade show. I had on my standard blues with a red silk power tie. And the Floorshiem shoes.
I could think of nothing more embarrassing.
Squirrel had been helping with the intro line all day. But as I entered the shop, I had forgotten all the clever lines.

“
Okay, David, how may we help you today?
”

“Look,” I began “I am either a cross-
dresser
or something else… I don’t really know
.
I’ve been having a very difficult time passing in public.
Although I have several things to work through, I think that it is best that I start with my hair.” Wow, I had
told the truth,
straight
up,
without crawling into a hole.

“
Why of course. That is very good thinking David.
Why don’t you sit down here and we can discuss what needs to be done.
Now the first thing you want to do is pick
a wig
close to the color of
your own hair
. You have beautifu
l hair and we’ll be able to comb
it in up here in front.”

“Please slow down, what do you mean by combing it in front?”

“Where the wig meets your forehead dear.”

Yes he was flaming fun.
I enjoyed the way he was treating me.

“A dead
giveaway
for a piece is that leading edge can often show.
“
So what we
do
is
pull a little of
your
natural bangs out from under the wig and then comb them back into the wig. That way
you’ll have a natural looking hairline,
”
he explained as he worked an amazing transformation.

“That makes sense.
Do you have to use the exact same color as my natural hair?”

“No dear, you have a lovely color that would work with dark and light
browns
.
Or you can dye your hair for an exact match.”
I had tried dying my hair to
match a wig
.
But it had been unsuccessful and I had been caught. Charlene noticed it right away…
after we got to church.
At least she couldn’t say much to me in the chapel.

“Now let’s see what might look good on you.”
He pulled three pieces from nowhere.
Okay, here is a blondish color…. No that won’t do.
This auburn color looks very nice. Oh sweetheart, this is your lucky day. This brunette is YOU!”

He placed it on my scalp.
It looked terrible.
“I think that it doesn’t look very good” I whined.

“No dear, let me show you what I mean.”
He got a comb and pulled my own hair along the front of the wig out and then combed it in.
Yo
u have a wonderful mix of color…
you can get away with this.”

I looked at the hair line and it indeed look
ed
natural, but the rest of the wig was just a lot of straight hair.
“Alright, so what’s next?”
I asked.

“Well sweetie, we need to style this piece for you.
Now that face you have… we have to get rid of this.”
He said as he swished the hair on both sides of my head.

“How bout we give you a punk style cut sweetie?”

“Huh?”
I had no idea what punk was.

“ Joan Jett, Pat Benetar, are you familiar with them dear?”

“Hey, I want to blend in, not stand out!”

“Girl, if you’ve g
ot it, then flaunt it!
”
he said.

I broke out in laughter.
The whole thing looked absolutely absurd. There I was sitting in a chair
, in a three piece suit,
looking at a full length mirror, wearing a dark wig.

“Okay, I said, what will it cost me?”
I don’t remember what he told me but I recall it was less than 70 dollars.
I quickly agreed and he started cutting.
He cut the piece just as you would real hair.
I was surprised at just how good he was.
When he had finished the cut looked a little “punky”. It was poofy on top, longer in back and straight on the sides. He left it at shoulder length.

I was surprised to see how much hair was left on the floor. It looked like only one third remained on my head and I made a comment to that effect.

“Yes dear, we start with an empty canvas.
Now how is this looking?”

“It’s probably the best thing that I’ve ever seen on me.” The power tie strangled my neck and I released it.

“Here, let’s put a wrap on to get rid of that dingy suit,” he said as he whipped a fresh cloth around my shoulders.

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped.
The change was incredible.
I had always thought that hair hanging around my face would cover me better. That was not the case.
He had freed up my face.

“Look, you have a lovely face here.”

H
e proceeded to give me advice on applying make up.
He showed me some shades that would work with my face and new hair color.
He also showed me how to use shadows effectively to minimize my jowls and to bring out my deep set eyes.

“Here see… if you will put a bit of this dark shadow right back here at the back of your jaw, we can effectively reduce the squareness of your face.”

I couldn’t believe what he had showed me.

“To make an area look smaller or sink it, you will use a dark color.
To raise an area or emphasize it, use a light color.
Let’s try this on your nose.”
He put an ever so slight streak of dark powder down
each side
of my nose.
“See what I mean?
You need to experiment to get the look that you like. And don’t forget that you will look different outside than inside. If you are going to be outside, use a lot less.”

“Now don’t put a lot on, just a little. You’re not a drag queen, love. When you are done, finish it off with a light powder.
Here, these colors look good on you.”

I agreed and told him that I’d take them.
I purchased the piece and a few cosmetics.
He did not charge what I thought it was worth to me.
I walked out for under 90 dollars an hour later.

That night, I went out to dinner alone.
My
clothing was very modest. I wasn’t
clocked all night long.
No one stared at me. No one even knew I was there
as I sat in a quiet corner of a quiet restaurant
.
I was elated.

This particular piece stayed with me for years.
After my transition, I wore my natural hair which is a streaked blonde.
I used to use the wig on Halloween and dress up as a witch.
Now that was fun.

Was this the end of my quest to pass?
No.
It would take years.
The biggest problem in passing is self confidence
….. and the 5 o’clock shadow.
.
I had my voice to work on. I had to look and feel natural.
Additionally,
I was still scared and frightened every time I considered leaving my room.
The room was history however.
I would never again stay in another lonely hotel room wishing that I could be a woman. I would
,
from now on, go out, meet people, and experience my life, my new life, my new and still secret life.

Learning to walk, to talk, and behave is something a baby start’s learning shortly after birth. Interaction with her parents is the first thing she experiences.
She learns right from wrong, how to eat with utensils, and how to dress herself. With any luck, she will receive immeasurable love from her parents filling her with a sense of peace and belonging.

I once heard that Japanese must be an easily learned language. “How is that?” I asked.

“Well look over there at that
three
year old. He speaks Japanese quite well. It’s so easy a
three
year old can learn it!” was the reply.

Certainly, many of the most difficult things we take for granted are learned in the formative years. Babies grow and learn; they become socially interactive, and blindly accept their respective gender group.
Girls band together to do “girl” things. Boys band together to do “boy” things. We acknowledge this process but most adults forget the enormity of it all. Young life is so malleable. It’s like a sponge, soaking up every thing in the environment.

Generally
,
younger children are delightful.
They are curious, very open to discussion, and playful
…
then they grow up to be teenagers.
This is when they experiment with their concept of self. They test their parent’s fortitude by rebelling against expectations. “They do stupid things” is an understatement. They experiment, evaluate, and validate their new found self. They form new relationships as their hormones drive them towards adulthood and the ultimate biological purpose in life; to procreate.

Development in a male or female environment fully
consumes
a child’s young life. As I attempted to move from my
male-trained
self into a feminine role, I faced brick walls at every turn.
Society would not permit me entry into the classroom.
I did not fit.
I did not have time to try.
I could not escape the male world to learn. I screamed for release.

David was “David” everywhere he went. And while living and working in the central valley of Salt Lake
City, he never would or could be
anything else. There were too many family, friends, and professional connections to prevent it.
Every
moment of his life was well tracked
.
There was no escape.

I could translate the technical jargon into marketing lingo.
I could convince a potential corporate customer that our products made good business sense. And finally, I could be inserted into a new engineering group, help design software and hardware, as well as debug and resolve difficult technical problems. I
was not an engineering genius
, by any means.
But I could evaluate problems and find solutions. It didn’t matter what the problem was. It could be technical, it could be personal, or it could be financial. I became known as an effective conduit between sales, engineering, and our customers.
I could talk technical details without losing the uninitiated.
I could explain marketing requirements in technical details to engineering.
I became a valuable asset.