Allison M.

A crossdresser's thoughts on life, fashion, fabulousness, and (oh yeah) dressing up

Hot girls and high heels at work

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Okay, there was something… well, I should correct myself, two things that I noticed at work this morning that I wanted to chat about here, one good and one… well, it left me shaking my head a little bit.  I’ll start with the head-shaker first:  Almost right off the bat this morning, I had a big print job that I had to send to our multi-function device in the mail room of our floor.  “Multi-function device” is a somewhat cumbersome way of saying this device can scan, copy, and print all at once (it does the needs of the 100 people or so that occupy our floor at work).  I tend to call it “The Big One” since, well, it’s a rather big device (about a foot shorter than I am, and I’m 5’5″ out of heels)…

But I’m losing my train of thought here, so let’s get back to what I wanted to talk about:  While grabbing my print job from “The Big One,” I noticed someone had printed personal stuff.  Which is commonplace in our work place and maybe in yours, too:  A lot of people use their work computer and printer to print off internet articles, travel plans, hotel reservations, property listings… and, oh yeah, full-color photos of beautiful women.  Yeah, that’s what I saw when I got my big print job this morning:  Someone used “The Big One” to print off three images of hot-looking babes.

Now, I should make note about the men on my floor at work:  They may all be professional, and some (like me) more so than others.  But there are a few guys who go all “bro” and talk about sports or movies or rock music, use swear words (*gasp!*), and do whatever else when they should be working… like looking at and printing full-color photos of beautiful women — and sending them to “The Big One” where prying eyes can have a look-see.  Which made my head shake a little bit.  I mean, I was always taught to be devoted to work once you’ve clocked in for your shift.  And that, unless you’re on a break, you shouldn’t surf the internet to look at full-color photos of beautiful women.

But there was another part of me who thought… well, these guys (or whoever) maybe did print these pics off during their off-work time.  And they could have had valid reasons for printing them out at work, like, say, their printer at home is on the fritz.  And it was just three photos, so what does that matter?  So, I didn’t raise a ruckus or clutch my pearls in indignation.  I just took the photos off the printer, set them aside on the neighboring table (whoever printed them can find them there), and took my own print job back to my desk.  It was no big deal anymore.  Oh, and for the record:  Those full-color photos of beautiful women were… well, they were head shots.  Of course they were not pornographic; those bros are far too smart to ever stoop that low.


But there was one other thing I got a kick out of this morning at work, and it happened as I was exiting the elevator.  I was heading up said elevator with one of the supervisors on my floor.  No, it wasn’t my supervisor, who was out-of-town all week and isn’t one to wear high heels at work.  Ah, you heard me say the magic words, didn’t you?  Patent black high heels with red soles!

Anyway, Ms. Supervisor and I were stepping out of the elevator at the same time.  Being the gentleman that I am, I let her step off first.  But she took an awkward step and almost stepped out of her patent black high heel with the red sole.  I had to stop for a second in case she was about to stumble (“Whoops!  Are you okay?”).  But she caught herself with no harm or foul (“Nope, I’m all right; thanks for asking.”).

But there was that divalicious part of me who was tempted to tell her, “Oh, I know the feeling, girl; high heels can be a bitch to walk in sometimes.”  Of course, being the professional — and closeted crossdresser — that I am, I kept my diva mouth shut, satisfied in the fact that we didn’t have an injured supervisor on our hands.  Which reminds me… I gotta brush up on my first aid training one of these days.

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Author: Allison M.

A part of the trans community ("cross-dresser" is the term that applies to me) who finds themselves much more expressive and somewhat more confident when presenting in a feminine persona. An admirer and supporter of those who are fashionable, fabulous, and friendly (LGBT or otherwise). Someone who tries to be witty and unique, but is not even remotely perverted or a pariah (I am a real human being, just like you). Using various writing styles on this blog to communicate thoughts and feelings concerning my life experiences, fashion sense, and the world at large (and maybe impressing my high school creative writing teacher who deservedly gave me middling grades).

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