The Changing Room (Chapter 4/7) (Patreon)

Chapter 4.

He couldn't see which way to go without lowering the dress down a few inches. This slowed him.

The woman who had used the stall after he was, was trailing him. She was calling out to him.

“MISS,” SHE YELLED AGAIN.

Jose approached the exit to the store. He knew he couldn't take the dress he was holding out of the store. The alarm would probably go off and shoplift agents would run after him. It was best to leave the dress here. He put the dress on the nearest rack. He didn't care that he wasn't in the woman's department anymore. He just couldn't take it outside. Before leaving the store, Jose paused to face a wall. People couldn't see his face from this vantage point. Soon they would see him as he made the dash to his car.

Before he could continue his journey, the woman who had been calling out finally caught up with him. She tapped him on the shoulder. Instinctively Jose turned around.

“You forgot your purse,” the woman informed him.

The woman offered Jose the purse he had seen in the stall. It was the same brown purse with a shoulder strap and a rigid handle.

Jose hadn't taken it with him. He decided that it didn't belong to him, there wasn't any reason to take it.

“Oh, yeah, thank you,” he said in the same falsetto voice he had before.

“You're welcomed,” she said honestly. She didn't have any reaction to discovering that the person dressed as a woman, who had been in the woman's changing room, was obviously a man. That is what Jose thought. But from the woman's perspective, Jose was just another middle-aged woman.

While at the door that exited the store, other people walked in and out. Jose was out in the open. The dress had been lowered instinctively such that everyone could see his face. No one paid him the least bit of mind. They carried on as if nothing was amiss. A woman leaving a department store, wearing a skirt and jacket seemed quite ordinary to all that saw Jose.

With a purse in hand, Jose exited the store. Tawanda would have draped the purse over her shoulder, but Jose simply carried it by its handle. He jogged slowly to his car. It was hard to run wearing the short heels on his shoes.

“Where did I park?” he thought to himself.

Finally, he remembered and headed that way. He saw his car in the distance. He tried to reach into his pocket where he usually kept his keys to realize that the outfit he was wearing didn't have any pockets. Even if they had, his keys wouldn't be in there. Jose's keys were in the pants he had removed before trying on the slacks. That was back in the men's changing room.

Jose didn't know what to do as he approached his own car. He couldn't get in the car. Even if the door was mistakenly unlocked or he broke the window to get in, he didn't have the key to start the ignition. Jose still felt safer around his car. He positioned himself so his car partially obscured him, despite no one doing anything out of place in regard to his predicament.

“A crossdresser in a parking lot,” he thought. “I guess people don't want to get involved.”

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