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Funny stories of a transvestite girl

By Betty Jašková, February 28, 2017, 18:58, Reflections

Being different often means suffering, nevertheless there are some hilarious moments in a life of a transgender person. My life as a transvestite is too riddled with least expected and most bizarre twists you can ever think of.

Robbed in the capital

People from my hometown had always bourgeois reaction to anything that was not completely standard. Of course this implies there are no transgender friendly clubs there. The solution was to go to clubs in Bratislava (capital of Slovakia).

The first part of the problem was how to get unnoticed from apartment to car. The solution was to leave the apartment half-transitioned. I applied makeup and dressed up en-femme (excluding skirt). I put over loose male clothes and packed the rest of femme clothes and wig. Eye makeup can’t be hidden, so I put on dark sunglasses.

The result was really grotesque: it is 9 pm, and I’m tip-toeing from my apartment in sunglasses. The car was already parked at the entrance, I quickly left and headed to Bratislava. I recall worrying about being stopped by police, but that’s another story.

The second part of the problem was how and where to complete the transition. I solved this problem by stopping a few kilometers before Bratislava. Note that at that time D1 highway was under re-construction, so no highway parking lots, only narrow side lanes for parking. Crazy place to finish your makeover, but there I was. First I changed clothes, put on a wig and lisptick. Yay, finally all set and ready to go. In Bratislava I usually parked near the chosen club. In the morning I headed back to my hometown and completed the transformation the other way around.

This worked well several times until one early morning. Returning to my parked car I realised I’m hungry, so I went to buy a small snack. But I made a mistake - I left my handbag in the car. When I came back,  an unpleasant surprise awaited me. The handbag was gone. Including an expensive camera, money and personal documents that I’ve left inside the handbag.

What now? Call the police? If so, how will they identify me? First, I couldn’t think straight but after some time I regained my clear thinking.

Took my male clothes from the car and changed myself at toilets of a nearby restaurant. After returning to the car, I called the police or went straight to a nearby  police station, I don’t remember exactly.

The police inspector was a young, pretty police woman. Due to the circumstances it became clear that I have to tell the truth.

“I have to tell you something. After you watch the footage from cameras in the parking lot, please don’t search for a tall blonde.”


“Because it's me. I’m a transvestite. The blonde was me putting some stuff into the car.”

I don’t remember exactly but I think surprise and uncertainty  flashed through her face. I explained her the whole story and she continued to write the protocol.

“The total damage excluding the camera and cash you mentioned already? Any other valuables in the purse?”she asked.

“About 5-7 thousand crowns (roughly $200-300).”

“What ?!”

“Well..  I left an expensive perfume, branded cosmetics and some expensive make-up brushes there,” I answered with downcast eyes.

Not sure if I can reproduce her sarcastic comment exactly but it was something along these lines: “Hm. Unbelievable, my all cosmetics right now are not worth that much, and you leave it in a handbag on a front seat of a parked car.”

Four trannies in a luxury car

Few years ago we used to organise meet ups for transgender people. Usually we went to some club, had some good talk and then we partied till morning. Mostly transvestites, transsexuals and their partners. One of these events has led us to the city of Ostrava (Czech Republic). We checked into hotel a then we discussed where will we go. The club that came out as winner was in a remote location of the town. One of us, Vlaďka,  suggested to use her car for transportation. She had a luxury BMW or Audi, of course no one complained. Shic in high end car. Lovely.

We met at the front desk and then left for the club. Vlaďka, me and two more trans-girls.

Of course inevitable happened - after few minutes we were stopped by a police patrol. It was two policemen and both approached the car.

“Good evening. Your papers, please.”

“Good evening officer,” answered Vladka in a deep male voice.

I started to get worried because I  heard a considerable dose of affect in her voice. She was known to be an exhibitionist and that meant things are not going to go down smoothly.

“Dude, she is a man ?!” yelled the cop.

During the entire conversation that followed, I sat in back and even with downcast eyes  I could clearly see Vlaďka staring at him. The policeman peeked into the window and looked at us all.

“Hey,” he yelled to his colleague, “They look better than your wifey.”

We burst out laughing. Vlaďka didn’t intend to stop: “Please .. Do you know where the Fiesta Club is?”

The policeman didn’t know and asked his colleague. While they were trying to figure out the directions we kept laughing.

“But you know what? Don’t worry honey, I actually know where it is,“ Vlaďka concluded sarcastically. “I'm glad that I met you.”

The policeman was decimated, but right before we left he managed to spit out short reply: “I can’t say the pleasure was mine.”

Taxi and glue

In past I was known for my insatiable thirst for partying. Once I got on a party wagon I  rarely returned home sooner than midnight. Often it meant I moved from a club to a club, some taxi drivers already knew I hit the streets: “Is it Betty who is calling?”

This particular time I went to a fetish party, but it ended at midnight which was way too soon for me. I decided to go to another club. Blending in with the crowd was not very easy in black PVC “Matrix” style coat, short PVC minidress, long latex gloves and high heeled boots.

Unfortunately both the heels on my boots got off and it seemed my evening was ruined.

I called a taxi with the intention to go back home.  Right after I got into the cab an idea crossed my mind. There is a quick glue in my handbag. It pays to be a scaut girl, I thought to myself.

And right there I started to glue the heels to boots. The taxi driver apparently noticed movement behind because he looked intently into the mirror and asked, "What are you doing there?

“I’m glueing my heels back,“ I replied politely.

“But why are you doing it in my cab? It smells terribly now,” resignedly said the taxi driver.

“And in addition to that, you are doing all that in rubber gloves. You’ll end up glueing your hands to boots or even worse case - glue yourself to the car.”

So that’s why it’s not working! I realized he is right, but I didn’t intend to give up.

“Please, turn left to the gas station,” and I explained to him that I'm going to get more glue. Cigarettes too.

I asked him to wait for me, because I decided to go back after I fix my heels. His resigned look made it obvious he didn’t have the patience to argue with me anymore.

Needless to say, the staff on gas station was quite amazed by a tranny in fetish attire buying glue and cigarettes.

Outside I put down my latex gloves and successfully glued the heels to boots. It’s probably unnecessary to add that the taxi driver was watching me whole time with his jaws dropped.

“Everything is fine,” I said triumphantly opening the doors of taxi, “We can go back now.”

I know you!

One of neighbors from my hometown is a well-known Slovak actor. I’ll not reveal his name, let’s just call him Norbert. When we were kids we used to fight and run around the woods. Later, during our college and university studies we had some drinks few times.  Of course he didn’t know then, actually no one else knew.

And now back to the story. As usual on Saturday, I went to a party. A similar scenario  like previous story, just my attire was even more extravagant, because  I was at a latex fetish party before. Naturally my look reflected that: tight latex mini dress, stockings and latex gloves, all black. Collar around his neck. High platform sandals on 14 cm (nearly 6 inch) heels. Not something you wear or even see every day. Since latex party was over around midnight (again! what‘s wrong with those fetish folks!), so I headed out to another  club.

My cab slowly pulled up to the club. While I was climbing out of the cab I noticed club looked full by the crowd standing outside. When I finally succeeded to get out of the car (not easy in “kill-your-self” heels) I almost fell to the ground. Right before me, there he was! Norbert holding a beer. Classic 🙂  He was not drunk yet but looking at his shiny eyes, it was clear that he was getting slowly hammered. So why not to test him?

“Hello Norbert! I see you are having fun!”

Quite startled  he looked at me, but recovered quickly: “Good evening Miss, do I know you?”

“Oh, yes, you do. And very well.”

“That my lady,  can say just anyone. You see.. I’m an actor,” promptly he responded.

It was clear he didn’t recognize me, so  I decided to reveal my identity and whispered to his ear: “Don’t you recognize me? It's me ..”

Surprise and astonishment in his face was like on a epiphany moment of some Oscar movie. Seconds later I could see finally his mind clicked and he recognized me.

“I'm going to have fun in the club,  hope to see ya later,”  and I left him there still confused.

In the morning I sent him a text message: “Hi Norbert, what happened last night was not delirium tremens. It was really me.”

Family in the garage

I decided to visit a Halloween party in SaSaZu club (popular mainstream club in Prague). But what to wear? Oh my god, I have nothing to wear! Do you know this feeling?

Finally I chose pink latex dress, black stockings, black gloves and high platform sandals. Since I think the fetish clothes are not meant for wide public, I usually call a taxi or drive my car if needed. I decided that this time I’ll go by a car. It's quite comfortable - my garage is several floors below my apartment. I just take the lift and down and my car is about 5-7 meters from the lift doors. Note, if I go out into the environment I don’t know I usually carry a katana. It’s not Korehira katana, but sufficient enough to discourage any annoying or drunk individuals.

I rode down the elevator and opened the garage door. Didn’t hear anything, so I walked  towards my car. After few steps I heard some noise behind me. When I turned around I noticed it was some family apparently returning from big shopping. Man and woman, both unloading bags from the trunk and a small child dancing around them. They noticed me too.

Both adults crouching, bags in both hands. Eyes open-wide with surprise. Small child stopped screaming and  dancing. It stood  there completely frozen, but for some reason I felt awe of interest from it’s little eyes.

And you ask why ? The kid was staring at a towering high person  (ehm..  me) in a weird dress holding a katana sword!

Awkwaaaaaard alert!  I realized, so I opened my car and headed out.

Yet I wonder whether the little girl later in the evening did ask their parents: “Mom, mom! Can I be a superhero like the lady we saw today in the garage?”

“Probably, yes..  Probably yes.. But you have to get straight A’s in school!” would be the parent’s hesitant answer.

Steps behind me

Yet another story related to my trip to the fetish party. And yes, it involves a goddamn katana! 🙂 But this time it was not meant for protection, it was more a character accessory. Dressed up in tight latex minidress, stockings, gloves and  10 cm heels. All black. Did I mention bizarre celtic-like patterns I painted over my face?

I surely didn’t want to use public transport with this attire. Luckily some friend attending party gave me a ride.

When we arrived to the place others gathered at the gate. Of course I was the last and late, because I was looking for my stuff in the car. They gave me the car keys and told me to get in quickly cause the party is going to start soon.

I frantically searched through car, while crouching on back seat. Only my latex clad shiny butt and legs in high heels were sticking from the car. Finally I snatched my handbag. Just find the katanas and you are ready to go, I thought to myself. Finally I saw them and triumphantly grabbed them.

Then I realized that I hear steps approaching. The steps slowed down, someone was slowing down as he/she approached the car. I leaned outside, landed my feet on the ground, still holding a katana in  each hand.

Soon I identified the source - it was a young man standing a few yards ahead of me. His eyes wide open as deep-water fish. Suddenly he accelerated his walking. He was nearly running as he passed me.

After all, get into his mindset: you walk home in the evening. In the distance, you catch a glimpse of a latex ass sticking out of the car, completed by long legs in an extremely long heels. Moving slowly closer and start enjoying view. You might develop a wild sexual fantasy in your head. Then the lady gets out of the car. She is nearly 2 meters tall. Dressed in latex, with crazy patterns painted on her face. Katana in each hand. Wouldn’t you run away too?

BTW: A photo from the party. Do you see what I’m trying to explain?



I hope you enjoyed my stories. If you do happen to have some funny stories please share them with us. Use the comment area below the article.

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