Entry tags:
- clothes,
- dating,
- food,
- restaurant,
- trans
what passes for a low key afternoon & evening with Dancer
Until yesterday I hadn't been bra shopping since early in 2017. I mentioned this to Dancer, and she said that she'd like to get something nice from that department too. That's much easier for me than for her in general, because she's so much better endowed. So, knowing that it's the high-price spread, I suggested Nordstrom; they have nice stuff, and they definitely know how to fit bras.
I spent more than I wanted to, but I walked away with bras that fit perfectly and, in a couple of cases, may silence the girlfriends who keep telling me to get sexier underwear. (If being a trans woman is a fetish, why did they have to nag me into getting cuter bras, hmm?) Dancer looked, but didn't buy. Moneywise it's a smart move.
Oh: Dancer is a bit of a shutterbug. She took a photo of some of the staff at the makeup counters because one of them looked extra... fabulous. It was done with good grace all around, but it's not something I would have asked for even if I'd wanted it. Retail is a hard enough job as it is.
The downtown Nordie's has excellent people watching — people serving lewks — and a bar on the third floor. Drinks and polenta fries (?!) were had. You know the restaurant ordering scene in "When Harry Met Sally"? Dancer is like Sally. She's of the opinion that you won't get anything that you don't ask for, but whence come these obscure desires? Yeah, I know, I'm hardly one to talk about obscure desires, but the thought of inconveniencing people gratuitously makes me cringe. Southern damage?
Back to my place to drop off the bras and get Dancer's car, which she then drove like a bat out of hell to get us to Pho Bac. There was another "When Harry Met Sally" moment, but there were also fries with bone marrow gravy (not bad), reg'lar pho (always a hit), and ube cheesecake. Ube is also known as purple yam, and ube cheesecake is a Filipino recipe. It matched my oh-so-purple hair, it was delicious, and I wouldn't know of its existence without Dancer. But Dancer and the Tickler have about got me convinced that I'm some kind of ascetic when it comes to food.
Oh again: while we were driving around, Dancer mentioned that she's going to need a hip replacement in the next couple of years. That's not implausible; she has a lot of joints that just don't work up to spec. She said the reason she's "dating casually" is so she doesn't get dumped while a hip replacement has incapacitated her. I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I don't think I would have made that calculation, but I haven't led her life, now have I?
There were cuddles back here at the Devil Girl House, but nothing that I don't write about in unlocked entries. It was a high-calorie, high-content, high-cost date, boy howdy.
I spent more than I wanted to, but I walked away with bras that fit perfectly and, in a couple of cases, may silence the girlfriends who keep telling me to get sexier underwear. (If being a trans woman is a fetish, why did they have to nag me into getting cuter bras, hmm?) Dancer looked, but didn't buy. Moneywise it's a smart move.
Oh: Dancer is a bit of a shutterbug. She took a photo of some of the staff at the makeup counters because one of them looked extra... fabulous. It was done with good grace all around, but it's not something I would have asked for even if I'd wanted it. Retail is a hard enough job as it is.
The downtown Nordie's has excellent people watching — people serving lewks — and a bar on the third floor. Drinks and polenta fries (?!) were had. You know the restaurant ordering scene in "When Harry Met Sally"? Dancer is like Sally. She's of the opinion that you won't get anything that you don't ask for, but whence come these obscure desires? Yeah, I know, I'm hardly one to talk about obscure desires, but the thought of inconveniencing people gratuitously makes me cringe. Southern damage?
Back to my place to drop off the bras and get Dancer's car, which she then drove like a bat out of hell to get us to Pho Bac. There was another "When Harry Met Sally" moment, but there were also fries with bone marrow gravy (not bad), reg'lar pho (always a hit), and ube cheesecake. Ube is also known as purple yam, and ube cheesecake is a Filipino recipe. It matched my oh-so-purple hair, it was delicious, and I wouldn't know of its existence without Dancer. But Dancer and the Tickler have about got me convinced that I'm some kind of ascetic when it comes to food.
Oh again: while we were driving around, Dancer mentioned that she's going to need a hip replacement in the next couple of years. That's not implausible; she has a lot of joints that just don't work up to spec. She said the reason she's "dating casually" is so she doesn't get dumped while a hip replacement has incapacitated her. I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I don't think I would have made that calculation, but I haven't led her life, now have I?
There were cuddles back here at the Devil Girl House, but nothing that I don't write about in unlocked entries. It was a high-calorie, high-content, high-cost date, boy howdy.