By Norah Blucher
Though I would much prefer to drive, I fly fairly often and my work would actually prefer I flew more and drove less, so I have ample opportunities, but had been waiting for the right time. I thoughtfully started paring down what I needed on trips, contemplated a right bit about how I would pull it off and sought advice from others who had done it about what to expect. I was nervous for sure, but patiently waited for the right trip to have a go at it.
A while back now, I had a trip to New York and Connecticut planned, and my car then needed some repairs, so I decided to fly. I was also planning to attend an event as Norah with one of my sisters, which meant Norah would be checking a bag, so this seemed as good a time as any. I had envisioned my first flight en femme to be an easy non-stop from LaGuardia or something, but instead it would be on the way home from little White Plains, NY, with a layover and everything, so following much of my other exploits en femme, I’d be jumping into this head first as well. Here we go!
The Saga Begins
It had been a long week already with a right more rigorous schedule than usual that included working a Saturday, topped off with a T-Girl party on Saturday night. I was quite knackered to say the least, but was thankfully able to sleep in on Sunday and take my sweet time getting ready for my 5 PM flight home on Sunday.
Once I get a routine down I’m good, but it took me a bit to reconfigure everything. All my work stuff is in a rather male type bag, so I had brought my female travel tote to carry with me, and utilized my roll aboard suitcase to hold all the work kit. My large checked bag which had gotten all my femme kit this far was now rather empty with me wearing my shapewear, wig and everything. My male clothing thus went into the large checked suitcase and my tote contained my wallet, snacks and my usual essentials plus some makeup essentials and hair brush.
Now I know you are all wondering what I wore, and it may not be what you expected. I had always envisioned my first femme flight in some sort of business attire, my heels clicking through the terminals of Laguardia, JFK or Logan airports, but not today. Though they often go smoothly, flying between smaller airports can sometimes turn into an adventure worthy of Tolken, the length of which is often unknown. I wanted to be comfortable, but did not want to digress into the gym wear I see so many females travel in now.
I settled upon a nice pair of jeans with my block heeled Mary Janes which would be comfortable to stand or walk in a reasonable distance if necessary. I also chose a nice green square neck tee I had recently gotten from an LL Bean outlet on a previous trip. I have come to love this top and ordered more as unlike much of the clothing today, it has not much stretch, but has a very feminine cut and is not clingy. It drapes nicely and gives me a reasonably good shape without a corset. It was a bit chilly so I wore a light zip up sweater as well so I would not have to mess my hair up pulling something over my head when going through security. I also packed a light cashmere poncho to wear once I cleared security. Ponchos are quite fab in that they hide any un female irregularities from a lack of corset, allow a lot of freedom of movement when wrangling bags and also allow you to inconspicuously adjust your bra straps or something in the less than private cattle cars we consider airplanes these days. Truly think about it. Aside from your own spouse or family, modern air travel puts you in closer contact with other humans than most anything else and even that depends on your relationship with your spouse, LOL.
Anyway, after all this there was little time to spare as I headed off toward the airport.
Checking In
Dropping off the rental car was as uneventful as I had imagined it would be and though they confirm your ID when checking a bag, I’ve never endured any scrutiny at this point. It all went smoothly and the lady checking my bag even commented on the cool weather and complimented me on my sweater! So far so good.
Next was going through TSA security, the part I was the least sure of. I’m so comfortable out as Norah at this point that I had no real fears, but I was curiously nervous how this would go, mainly due to my shapewear. You typically have to remove jackets, sweaters, shoes and what not to go into the scanner. Women obviously wear bras with no issue, but mine contained silicone breast forms and I had on a right bit more under my jeans than a silky pair of knickers, wearing my usual padded panty with a shapewear short containing my silicone bum and hip pads. Would this be an issue? Only one way to find out and as long as they took me to a private room, I could not care less if they wanted to search me. A pain for sure, but I had nothing to hide.
As for IDs, I know a lot of to-do has been happening with gender markers and such, but in my case I have a non Real ID driving license with my male picture and marker and thus travel with my passport, which also denotes me as male and has a picture of the male I sometimes pretend to be. I’ve done the ID things many many times checking into hotels and such and it has never been a big deal to me personally. When dealing with legal situations like police, entering a secure building and now TSA, I am genetically a male, with a legal male name. My picture shows me in my raw form just as the thousands of other females who rolled out of bed and took a horrid ID photo. My hair color with a wig does not match my ID just like every girl who dyes her hair and if I want to wear female clothes and makeup that is my business. I’m no different than David Bowie or Jon Bon Jovi taking a flight, LOL. So with this all in mind, I next headed over to the TSA line.
I do not have Pre-Check or anything, so off to the commoner’s line I went, which consisted of just me. I told you this was a small airport! The young chap at the desk called me over and I handed him my passport and looked into the camera. The chap then looked at the passport, then at me and perhaps hesitated a bit more than I am used to, before handing it back and biding me a good day.
Over at the bins and scanner another chap greeted me and told me to remove my sweater, belt and shoes. He then asked the dreaded question, do you have any electronics? To which I replied I had a right many, so lets get some more bins!
Ugh! I do hate this. Most airports now have you keep everything in your bag, but a few have you remove electronics. If I am familiar with an airport, I prepare for this accordingly, but such was not the case that day. So I opened my bag and removed the work bag and started pulling out the work computer, my personal computer, the iPad, and pulled my wallet containing my phone from my tote. Satisfied we had everything out, it was all sent through the scanner and I was sent over to the human scanner.
I walked in, held my hands up and was asked to step out by the bloke standing guard at the scanner… and also to stand to the side. Oh boy, what now?
Without even asking a preference on my part, a female agent came over to me and smiled and said she needed to check my wrists, which she did and then she informed me she had to check around my neck and she just ran her fingers around my neck under my shirt before smiling and sending me on my way. She did not say and I did not ask, but I guess my bracelets and necklace required further inspection. And with that my bins emerged from the scanner and I was off. I had made it in!
I Will Get Home, Won’t I?
Having passed that hurdle, I was on cloud nine and was then instantly deflated, the first leg of my flight was delayed. Okay, let’s get some food.
This was a small airport and had no restaurant and no bar. I went to the little convenience store, got some soda, a pre-packaged charcuterie spread, some biscuits and settled in at the eating area. I dug out my computer and got some work done while I waited. No big deal, happens all the time.
And then I waited some more. And then more again. Delay after delay was announced, and I learned that my incoming flight had been diverted due to a mechanical issue and would not be coming until it was fixed. I was initially comfortable knowing I had an almost four-hour layover at Reagan airport in Washington, DC, but that was quickly shrinking. And then I watched my connecting flight get delayed as this whole thing turned into a neck-and-neck horse race as I waited to see if the gap would close or if I could get home.
On the bright side, I had a bit of conversation to pass the time. I’m not sure if this was a friendly place or it was due to me being female, but a few other women were quite chatty with me. The lady perched on a stool near me was also on my flight and working also, but we both periodically stopped, chatted a bit and then went to work again.
At one point, another lady came and sat for a bit on the stool between us and we had quite a lovely conversation. Nothing more than friendliness, but she was quite open about where she was from, having used to live in the area and returning to visit family, etc. She also seemed quite interested in me and where I was from and we discovered we had once lived very near each other in a different state. Such a small world! She chatted a bit with the other lady as well and then left to catch her flight, biding us, “I wish you ladies good luck and a safe trip.”
As a side note, I must say these interactions never cease to thrill me, but also leave me confused as well. I’ve no complaints whatsoever, but time after time I have these interactions and I seemingly am not read or if I am, no one lets on that they find me different and I am just regarded as another female and treated as such.
At one point, I had to use the ladies’ room and after doing my business went to wash up. These public bathrooms at airports are always a game show. You have five sinks each with their own automatic faucet, soap and dryer or towel dispenser… and seldom do all things work at any one spot. Like a rerun of Keystone Cops, one has to wet their hands, slide over to another sink to get soap, go back and rinse and then find a dispenser with towels. Such was the case that night and as I fought with a towel dispenser another lady laughed and called me over when she found one that worked, LOL. I guess we were all having a moment this day.
Returning to my stool, the other lady on my flight informed me of a further delay and I watched my connection time shrink to three minutes… if this was the last delay.
A mate of mine who once traveled the world for business once described travel in the Northeast U.S. as a series of bad bets. No airports fly directly to each other, trains run weird routes and drop you off in one spot, necessitating you find your own way to the next train and traffic on the roads can be a nightmare. A series of bad bets for sure, and in today’s craps game, I just rolled snake eyes. It was 9 PM at this point and I was giving up and went to the service desk to rebook for the next day.
A woman with a baby had just berated the lady at the desk, as the airline app kept showing us delays, but they had not informed us at the airport. I realized it was not her fault and was as nice as possible. She said the plane was about to depart and head our way, but I said three minutes to connect was too close for me.
As she rebooked me, I knew I had made the right call as her radio announced the incoming plane had just returned to the gate in Norfolk, VA, with more mechanical issues and they were looking for a new plane to put everyone on. Flying en femme would have to wait I guess.
Comraderie of Females
As I returned to my stool, I informed the lady I had been chatting with that I was throwing in the towel and she said she was too. We were both on our computers making arrangements for the night, and what happened next surprised me.
Asking where I was staying, she informed me she had found a good deal at one of the nearby hotels and inquired about splitting an Uber! There was nothing naughty in this that I could detect and it sort of confirmed that she was either reading me as completely female all this time or at least an extremely unthreatening T-Girl, as I cannot picture a solo traveling female telling a bloke where she was staying and offering to share a ride, would they?
My work prefers us to stay at certain chains and has no reservations about us getting rental cars and I informed her of where I was going, I was renting a car and extended an offer back to her. She declined as my place had more expensive rates, but we wished each other well and parted ways.
As I returned to the rental car counter, someone from the airline was waiting to return my checked bag to me and the bloke at the counter remembered me from earlier and looked confused to see me again and assumed I had an issue with my rental. I laughed and told him everything was fine and the airline had decided I was going to stay another night. He checked me in with a car and I headed to my hotel for the night.
Halfway to the hotel it occurred to me that I had never rented a car en femme, and I had just done it without giving it a thought. Perhaps I was just so knackered or perhaps I’m just so comfortable out in the world as Norah that I do not differentiate much between my two sides anymore.
Anyway, it was a horrid day for travel, but I had gotten through the hard parts. I had just not stepped on a plane. As I went to bed I really did not think I had it in me to do this en femme another day and figured I would travel back home en homme. The whole trip had been bloody exhausting, but I still felt a sense of accomplishment, coming as far as I had, and felt it had been worth the effort.
As always, loves, questions or comments are welcome below or you can email me at nblucher at-sign proton dot me.
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| Wearing Rag & Bone |
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| Luis Montalbert femulates Kylie Minogue on Costa Rican television’s Tu Cara Me Suena. Click here to view this femulation on YouTube. |
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