Sunday, August 11, 2019

Never had this happen before!

Recently, my wife and I were seated at a diner about 150 miles from home, and the thirty-something female server with VERY short (translation: not feminine at all) hair said “Hi girls…what can I get you to drink?”  We both asked for “just water, please.”  And with that, she took off to get it for us.  I made no attempt to soften my voice, and I was wearing androgynous women’s shorts, flats, and polo top.  She may have seen my purse and nails when I walked in…but I’ll never know.

Then came the absolutely amazing part.

When she returned with our drinks, she apologized profusely for mis-gendering me, and said she simply assumed I was a girl because of “your beautiful long hair.  And I get mistaken for a boy all the time, so I know how that feels.  Once again, I’m so sorry!”   My wife remained silent (though I didn’t notice her blushing or anything like that.)   But I thanked the server for her compliment about my hair, and accepted her apology (though I wasn’t at all offended…LOL!)   She treated us very well the rest of our meal, arranged for an extra big helping of dessert, and we left a nice tip.  

Usually once I’m accepted as a girl, most folks continue that acceptance, even once the revelation strikes them that I’m not what I seem to be.  So this was very unusual…and my wife was also surprised.  (But after it happened, she didn’t mention it again.  Nothing else was said.)

On to the next topic:

During a recent trip through PA, we managed to become prosperous!  As long as that condition can be achieved by visiting Prosperity…a tiny Pennsylvania “burg” by that name.  Not a big town by any means (and it’s halfway between nowhere and nowhere else), but there is still an open post office, and some of the homes are old but very pretty.  A picture of the post office is below:

Legend has it that the name came from the enthusiasm of the original settlers, who were anxious to do well in the future.  So they named their town “Prosperity.”    Can’t say that their plan worked, but the place was far from decrepit, as so many rural communities are. 

I guess it all depends on your interpretation of “prosperity.”

More later…


Thursday, August 8, 2019

The Next Morning...

After a decent night’s rest at the hotel, it was time to check out the part of the Riverwalk which I had not covered the previous day.  On my way to the car with the first load of my things, the man who checked me in the previous day said “Good Morning, Ms. Sherman.”  (I was wearing a different skirt and blouse…  

Of course I responded appropriately, and after the pleasantries, I inquired as to whether anything had been decided as to an adjustment due to their not having my reservation when I checked in (despite my written email proof.)  “We’ll have that info when you check out.” 

So I made another trip to the room, finished loading the car, and checked out.  And found that they had awarded extra points to my frequent traveler account as the mainstay of their “adjustment.”  But in addition, I was surprised when the man offered to “take you to breakfast this morning, on me.”  since their facility does not offer a free continental breakfast  Initially I interpreted it as a nice gesture in an effort to apologize for the mix-up when I checked in.  But I had to move on, and in fact, I’d brought my own breakfast from home. I politely declined.  So he  gave me his card with an offer to make it happen on my next visit… 

That made me begin to wonder…was his breakfast treat an “official part of the hotel’s apology” or was the guy kinda-sorta “making a pass at me and asking for a date?”   That certainly would be a  “first” – but something  in which I have no interest    I can smile just a bit at the mere thought of “it being a pass”, but in reality, I suppose I’ll never know.   And that’s a good thing!  (In the event I end up in town sometime in the future, I’ll most likely use another hotel…especially if I’m with my wife!)

After checking out, I drove to the Riverwalk and parked the car.  It was time to check out the other half of it.   A very pleasant walk…past an empty outdoor beer garden which I had seen from its other entrance the night before when it was open.  It certainly looked different when quiet and lifeless.  

On the Riverwalk was some sort of event center with pub, which catered to the 20-something set, and on a Saturday morning it was booming…with loud modern music “literally booming.”  Young folks were standing around talking, and I was expecting at the very least, stares – or possibly even comments.  No worries…it didn’t happen.  I strolled right on through the crowds, without noticing any “stares or side glances.”  And definitely no comments.  (Yes – sunglasses, even at that early hour – are wonderful!)

And as I looked out along the river, there was a crew out practicing their rowing.   Well, almost all of them…a couple of them seemed to be barking the orders!

In the shadow of the Amtrak station and elevated Northeast Corridor trackage, is the old Baltimore and Ohio station.  A bank took it over, and repurposed it…which is better than seeing history destroyed!  (The road in front was apparently the former right-of-way!)

At that point,, my objectives had been met.  I reversed direction to walk back to my car.  But I took a moment to get a pic to share with you:

It was a fun day…and now I await my next adventure…whenever and wherever it may be!


Tuesday, August 6, 2019

An adventure at the hotel...

Afterward it was time to check in at my hotel, and then head for the Shipyards area, to do some exploring on foot. 
Checking in at the hotel was an adventure…    I was initially identified as female and addressed as “Ms. Sherman,” but the overall experience was definitely a challenge.  They couldn’t find my reservation.  I had proof, in the form of a text message from the reservation office, and a printed copy of it, but they could not find it.   Needless to say, I was not "s happy camper."   But I tried to react more like a woman than a man, so I was polite in dealing with them. 

I was preparing for them to say they could not give me a room…at which point I would've had to dredge up the standby line that I’ve only had to use once previously (and very successfully)  back in the late 1980’s.  What precipitated that "back in the day" was being told by the hotel manager that the conference hotel (it's name began with R but it’s not Red Roof Inn) was completely sold out and they could do nothing to help, despite my reservation and the fact that I was attending the conference.

There were other customers standing in line right behind me, as I asked the manager:   “If President XXX walked in to stay with you tonight, you’d find rooms for him and his entourage, right?”  Their answer back then (and presumably any quality establishment’s response now still would be – or maybe not, given the current political situation ) was “Of course we would, absolutely.”  To which I responded:  “Well, I can assure you he won't be arriving here tonight.  I’ll take one of those rooms.”  
The manager's chin dropped to the floor.  And to my amazement, it actually worked…I was given a room.   There's never been a reason to try it again.   

Back to the present:  after a 20-plus-minute wait, staff “found” my reservation…with apologies, but no reduction in rate.  I asked them to see what they could do and they said they’d let me know at checkout.  It was fun, in that every staffer in the vicinity by then knew me as “Ms. Sherman, the lady with the lost reservation.”   And I finally got the key to my room…to relax a bit before going out for dinner.  

Enroute through the lobby on the way out to visit the Shipyards area (i.e. get dinner and sightseeing), I was still “Ms. Sherman.”  So nice to hear that, even if they happened to be aware of my true gender (which is at least possible, due to my driver's license and affinity card info!)   I stopped at the children’s museum in the area to check it out for our granddaughter, and get a brochure with info.  The receptionist (middle-aged female) interpreted me as female, and answered all my questions.  A nice place…hopefully one day we can return with our granddaughter.

When I got to the restaurant, their greeter (a 20something girl) told staff that they can seat “him” (wearing a skirt and top, of course) in that booth over there (the place was crowded).  That was the only notable instance of being clocked on the entire trip.  Were I truly female, I’d have been upset enough about being identified as male to have a little chat with management and then walk out the door.   The food and service were OK…not great, just OK.  After a quick dinner, I was headed out the door.  

There is also a fun little boat ride available, on their imitation paddlewheel "steamboat", which gives tours of the river area:

 I didn’t have time to sail on it this trip, but it’s on the list for next time.   

So I continued walking partway downtown on the Riverwalk along the Christina River,  a signature  natural feature in the Shipyards renovation.   Lots of folks were enjoying the walk in the warm weather, and folks playing mini golf were having fun.    Finally it was time to head back to the car...and return to the hotel for the night.   The Wilmington skyline is pretty, with the river in the foreground.    I decided to come back tomorrow morning to finish the walk.

Once back to the hotel, it was time to settle in for the night.  But I was still Ms. Sherman as I walked thru the lobby....

More later,


Thursday, August 1, 2019

At's time

...for Mandy to get out and about, even if only for a couple of days...

With my wife visiting her sister, there was a perfect opportunity to go north to the Wilmington (Delaware) area and ride a tourist train, then stay over at a local hotel and the next day, do some downtown sightseeing as a possible venue for a short trip with our son and his family.  (There is a nice children’s museum, which would be the keystone of the trip.)

Having tried on my entire limited wardrobe, I found only a few unpleasant surprises of things which either didn’t fit right or didn’t look right.   Finally I settled on my gray elastic-waist knee-length skirt and black ¾ sleeve top for the first day, and elastic-waist knee length black skirt with medium blue polo for the second day.  I also took my denim jumper dress with white polo along, as a back-up outfit, and wore existing flats, since I wasn’t ready to wear my new ones without first wearing them for some partial-day trials.   

Prior to my trip, I had my fingernails done, and the tech decided that I should sport white tips - which she painted on top of the acrylic, so they would look pretty for my trip, but not be “permanent” - flashy is not my everyday style.  Here is what they looked like, while holding one of my new flats and wearing my choice of footwear:

Both pairs of shoes are cute, and comfortable, and look quite girly with my black skirt.  As do the nails!  I look forward to spending lots of quality time in both!

While driving north on the Delmarva, I stopped to get a picture of what looked like the scene of an airplane crash.  However, it wasn’t… 

Upon closer inspection, it's a roadside attention-getting prop for Frightland, a seasonal “haunted adventure” for kids and adults.  (See the facility in the background.)  Don’t think I’ll be going there, but it definitely is a very eye-catching way to advertise!

After learning the basics of my way around downtown Wilmington, I arrived early at my first stop: the Wilmington & Western Railroad.   That let me park my car in one of the few shady spots – a good thing on a hot day! 

Staff was of course friendly, but they universally omitted any references to gender, which is always OK by me.  (Between the skirt, long hair, and French tip nails, I must have provided enough cues that they didn’t go with “Sir.)  I got my ticket for the first trip of the day, and enjoyed my ride very much.  Interestingly, the younger set on board – under 4 years old – mostly smiled and waved at me – and yes, I always smile and wave back.  The moms and dads smiled, too, with occasional small talk.  Sort of like being around their grandma?   Then I stuck around for the second ride’s departure, and took some pictures.   (All the folks on board waved at me, and I waved back.)

Picture-taking included, of course, the obligatory one of me standing beside the doodlebug:

If you’re ever in the area, take some time to ride.  It’s been years since I rode a doodlebug at the East Broad Top (which is now permanently closed), and the W&W has done a great job of keeping the ex-Pennsylvania Railroad relic operating.

More later,


Monday, July 29, 2019

Finally...they arrived!

And they fit!  

For a long time I’ve been wearing my same 4 pairs of flats. Day after day, every day of the week, one pair, then the next, and so on (except, of course, days when I have to wear my sandals.)  They’re showing definite signs of wear, beyond what having them polished can correct.  As in: the heels and soles are wearing down, and with one-piece soles, I can’t find a shoe shop which will replace them.  I keep hearing “No can do.”   Meaning: buy some new shoes.

I found a rather expensive pair of ballerina flats on-line.  They’re similar in appearance to the totally-worn out pair I save only for going into dirty circumstances away from home, such as car shows.   And I found a pair from a different manufacturer,  which also looked like they would work well.  Neither has the string "bow" on the vamp, which I would love, but suspect my wife would raise objections.   She didn’t take exception to my getting another pair or two of flats similar to ones I already have.  So I ordered them.

The expensive pair arrived just before my wife went west to visit her sister.  Cute ballerina flats, and unmistakably girly.  

That short vamp shows a hint of toe cleavage, an added bonus which I've always liked, but never experienced, and wasn’t expecting it.  They’re so comfortable, that even if I didn't care for toe cleavage,  I’d happily wear them because they make my feet feel good (and look so feminine.)   When I modeled them for my wife, she didn’t take exception to either the style or the hint of toe cleavage.

The other pair arrived while she was gone, and either they were mis-marked or sized for foreign feet.  Not at all comfortable.  Back they go!  (Perhaps a case of “you get what you pay for?”)

I haven’t started to wear my “one new pair” yet…but I will soon.  And even though they weren’t cheap, if they work well, I’ll probably buy another pair.  Girly is good!

More later,


Thursday, July 25, 2019

Now you know...

Today I was walking through a shopping center, not in the vicinity of my car (which is a 2018 Japanese brand with keyless ignition.)  My key fob unlocks the car with a beep when you touch the door handle, and it was out of its Faraday cage (yes, I keep it in one of those) as I was planning to get in my car and head home.   As I walked past a modern Kia, that car beeped at me and I heard a click...    So I pushed the "open" button on my key fob, and the Kia's doors unlocked.  Then I pushed the "lock" button and they locked.  Not wanting to stir any attention by setting off the horn, I pushed both buttons again and got the same responses.  Whether it was initially or not, I left it locked.


On the other hand, old-fashioned metal keys are not a fail-safe method of assuring that your car stays locked.  Back in the 1950's, my parents were shopping and returned to their car (or so they thought - same make, model, number of doors, and color.)  Their key opened the door and operated the ignition, so they got in, and drove off.   Dad reached up on the dash to retrieve the pack of cigarettes he had left there - but for some reason it was gone.  Then he looked down, and saw a clean ashtray and no floor mats.  His car had a full ashtray and floor mats.  They drove right back to where they had picked up the car, parked it, and found their car 4 spaces away (with cigarettes and floor mats intact.)  They were lucky the real owner didn't report it as stolen...and fortunately nothing more came of it.

I was later informed that there were only X thousand sets of key sets between each carmaker, so there were likely huge numbers of cars using the same keys.   But you had to work a little harder to find them...trying to stick your key in every brand X car in the lot is "kinda sorta" a give-away as to your intentions.

Moral of this story is: whenever your modern car is unattendcd and locked, it's still not safe.  Luggage or other belongings being stolen are the least of your worries.   (I could have cleaned that car out and re-locked it without a trace.)  And likewise, the owner of that car could do the same for mine.   It's also possible that the entire car  could just be driven off by a party with evil intent.   Wrecking the car and its owner gets blamed?  Conceivably.   Imagine the problems from the thief doing a hit-and-run - with the cops showing up at your door, guns drawn and handcuffs out!

Carmakers obviously need to make their systems more secure....   In the meanwhile, I'm not sure what the answer is for car owners...other than to pray nobody with evil intent walks by your car and hears your car doors unlock.


Sunday, July 7, 2019

"Don't you just love it?" And, "Cabeese."

There are some new staff members – and residents - at Mom’s nursing home…as old ones are passing away.   Naturally, I hear “Ma’am” a bit more often than I usually have.   But that’s not a problem, and with Mom’s hearing (or more appropriately, lack thereof) it isn’t an issue for her, either.

I’ve been going to physical therapy for an issue, and was “Miss-identified.”  But there’s no doubt I had been clocked.  Their only male therapist interpreted me as a guy (still does) and addresses me accordingly.   I don’t challenge it – my records say “M” and he’s following that lead.  But their female therapists give me the same level of care, and refer to me as female.   Don't you just love it!?

Recently, for a visit to a new-to-me diagnostic center for a test I needed, the nurses referred to me as female, and even asked me if I would need a moment to remove my bra.  Of course I had to say that wasn’t necessary.   Very true statement…   As I checked out afterwards, the desk clerk finally figured out my real gender…but it took a while.

Wife and I were out and about on the Delmarva and came across this old bay window caboose, sitting off to the side of someone’s front yard, near the Delaware/Maryland state line.  My wife initially spotted it and we stopped along the road…

While I didn’t get close enough to it that I could look inside - where it’s likely the car number would appear (I was wearing my white slide sandals, which I chose to “not” ruin by railfanning in them), from the very faded green exterior color it appears to be a Penn Central cast-off.  The trucks which were sitting beside it, appeared to be roller bearing equipped, making it less obsolete.  (In modern railroading, “cabeese” (the plural of "caboose?") have become basically obsolete, regardless of their age.)  

If any railfans read this and recognize the railroad from whence it came, or the caboose itself, please feel free to comment.

From the amount of iron oxide (rust) visible on the carbody and roof, (translation: rust) and the fact that the caboose appears to be sitting on dirt, this would appear to be a major restoration job.  But why do I have the feeling that one day in the not-too-distant future, instead of a restoration crew, the local scrapper will be getting a call?