This isn't Kansas

Dorothy, this isn’t Kansas...oh wait...anyway, just click your heels three times.

I just flew back from the Midwest in girl mode, my first time. I spent the entire break in guy mode, but I planned on coming back in girl mode. With my trusty girl-mode license, I was prepared to take on the United States Gustapo at the airport.

First up was the car dropoff. I borrowed my parents car to visit friends, and they were picking it up there a week later after returning from their own added vacation. The dude at the curb was very friendly and didn’t notice a thing that I knew of. In fact, he carried my bags all the way inside to the counter area. I hopped on the bus to the terminal with one other woman. She spotted my golf clubs and asked me where I played golf. OK, after not being full time, and spending the entire week as a guy, I forgot to warm up my voice sufficiently before heading out in public. So, the words that escaped my mouth probably were not the best sounding. If I recall correctly, her eyes popped out of her head, and then back in again. I’d never really seen it in real life. She said some other things like she’d never heard of the place I played, but her conversation kinda ended rather fast, and she became silent. I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for talking, and was a bit nervous being in Kansas City in full on girl mode for the first time to really carry on any type of conversation with her. In hindsight, I wish I had knowing how well the rest of the trip went.

At the baggage check in station, I did the self serve and went to the area where they then take the baggage. I’m standing there with some other guy when the ticket lady walks over. She goes, “OK, let’s see who we have here....David?”

Well, the guy that’s there says “I’m not David.”

‘Well, what the hell. Don’t even look at me and ask me if I’m David’ ran thru my head instantly.

She did very well, though, and said “Well, let’s see who else we have here....K..? (which is my real name...thanks Mom, for the great name...you rock!!!) This must be yours” as she labelled my bags for checkin. Awesome...the ticket lady did very well with that situation.

Security was a breeze. It’s a lot easier walking thru metal detectors wearing sandals than leather boots. I always had to take my boots off before, but not this time. Funny, my parents always worried about me when I flew around the nation, thinking that I looked like a terrorist. With the reduced facial hair, I don’t have too much resemblance to anyone of middle eastern decent.

In my starting airport, I found a family restroom that was only one room and had a lock. So, figuring I was in the middle of nowhere I really wanted to be, I used it. When I flew in to Dallas for an hour layover, I thought I would be able to hold it until I got on the next plane back to the Bay Area. Wrong! I had to pee....so, off I went to the ladies bathroom. I’d heard good advice long ago...get in, do your thing, get out. That’s what I had usually done, but this was Cowboy town. Of course, there are probably a number of T’s that come thru Dallas on their way to E2000, so maybe they have some type of knowledge of what’s going on.......nah! So, in I went, did my thing, washed my hands, and then back out. No problem...flying colors!

I did get a few stares in the Dallas terminal, but not that many. I think most were just curious rather than giving me any dirty looks. Once in my seat back to the Bay Area, no one really said or did anything different. The lady sitting next to me made reference to me as “her” about halfway thru the 3.5 hour flight, but that was about it. I know about half way thru that flight, the attendants came around with drinks. When I asked for “applejuice”, the voice had been inactive for over 2 hours. Another cold start. Dang, that did not sound good at all. So, the voice still needs major work.