Hostile Environment

by

Valentina Michelle Smith

Part 2

 

Brian's smug feeling of triumph over the Dragon Lady was short-lived.

He walked out of Goldwyn's, out to the street, and immediately became self-conscious. He was suddenly aware of every facet of the female clothing he was wearing. He could feel the swirl of his slip and skirt over nylon-clad legs as he stepped onto the concrete sidewalk. The rush of air up his skirt left him feeling naked and vulnerable. The click of his high heels on concrete seemed to reverberate from the walls of the buildings. And he was convinced that somehow, everybody in the city had developed a kind of x-ray vision and could immediately tell that he was a man.

Brian tried to hide behind his props. He had slung his new purse over his shoulder and held some shopping bags, hoping that nobody would notice him. He tried not to stumble in his new heels, but was convinced that everyone who looked at him would instantly realize that he was a man in female clothing, out on the street in broad daylight. He managed to get to the subway entrance. He stared at the steps and had another moment of panic. How would he get down those steps without falling and breaking his neck?

Steady there, he said to himself. Women do this all the time. I can do it. I will do it. In a few minutes I'll do it. First I think I'll make a phone call. He reached for the phone he normally clipped to his belt, and then stopped. He was no longer wearing a belt. He opened his purse and retrieved his phone. He dialed the number of an old friend.

"Hello, Tony," he said as his friend answered, "this is Brian. Hey I was wondering if you had a few minutes. I need to talk to you about a legal matter. Can I see you?"

His friend said, "Sure thing, Brian. Can you come over this afternoon? I have a fairly free schedule today."

"I can come right over. I'm only a few blocks away."

"Great. It's been a while. I'll let the secretary know you're coming."

"Thanks, Tony, I appreciate it. See you in a few minutes."

Brian closed his cell phone and replaced it into his purse. As he slung the purse over his shoulder, he noticed that a man was staring at him. The man's _expression was puzzled as he tried to process the conflicting messages of a woman speaking with a man's voice. Brian stared back, quite annoyed, and snapped, "What are you looking at?"

The man seemed embarrassed and hurried away, hoping not to anger Brian. Suddenly Brian felt empowered. Attitude, he realized, was his key for getting through this situation. He walked with a new-found confidence to his friend's office.

The office of Cooper, Brown, and Colson, LLC, was only three blocks away, a distance Brian had walked many times. This was the first time he had ever attempted it in heels. His feet were complaining loudly by the time he entered the fifteenth-floor office and presented himself to the receptionist. Brian noticed the same sort of puzzled look on her face that he had seen on the man at the subway entrance. She somehow couldn't take her eyes off the man in female clothing as she called Tony Brown to announce Brian Northrop. She hung up the phone. "Mr. Brown will see you, ma'am, err, sir, err…"

"Thank you," Brian said, gently cutting her off as he entered his friend's office.

To say that Anthony Brown was stunned would be a gross understatement.

"Brian," he said as he extended a hesitant hand, "uh, it's good to, uh, see you again, but…"

Brian took the hand of his old friend. "Thanks for seeing me, Tony."

"Please, sit down," Tony replied, not quite able to stop staring at Brian. "Uh, does this legal matter you asked me about have anything to do with…" His voice trailed off.

"The way I'm dressed? It certainly does. What you are seeing is the approved dress code for Goldwyn associates in the lingerie department."

"My God, Brian, are you out of your mind? I thought you were in electronics! Just why would you want to work in the lingerie department, and why would you agree to wear those, those, clothes?"

Brian then recounted the events of the past week for Tony, who gradually looked less and less startled. Finally, Brian asked, "So what can I do about this?"

"Do you have a copy of the corporate policy with you?" Tony asked.

Brian took the employee handbook from his purse and handed it to Tony, who studied it for a few minutes. He concentrated on the area of dress and grooming standards for associates. As he pored over the contents his brow furrowed. Finally, he said, "To tell you the truth, Brian, this is not a clear-cut area of current law."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, whoever drafted this policy did a very good job. He carefully avoided any actual reference to gender that I might be able to use to file a discrimination suit. Unfortunately, if your company fails to enforce the standards on a uniform basis, their entire policy could be challenged on the basis of sex discrimination."

"I don't get it. There has to be something you can do."

"I'm sorry, Brian, but in this state employment is 'at will.' Goldwyn's may terminate your employment at any time without reason. They also have a right recognized by the courts to require reasonable standards of grooming and dress on the part of their employees. Your best bet would be to file a grievance with your union."

"Goldwyn's doesn't have a union," Brian said.

"Then I don't know what to tell you. I'm not really an expert on gender law issues. But I think I know somebody who can help you."

Tony opened a drawer in his desk and retrieved a large album of business cards. He leafed through it and located a name and phone number, which he wrote down on a memo pad. He tore the sheet from the pad and handed it to Brian. The name was for Jane Pelozzi.

"I've had dealings with her before, Brian, usually defending one of my clients from a sexual harassment suit. She works for the GenderLaw Project and she's probably the most knowledgeable attorney on the subject of sex and gender discrimination in the city. If anybody can help you, she can."

"Do you think she'll take my case?" Brian asked.

"If she doesn't, she might be able to refer you to somebody who will."

Brian folded the paper and put it into his purse. "Thanks, Tony. I owe you one."

"Not at all, this is what I do. Anything for an old friend."

"Well, I still appreciate it. It's nice to know I still have some friends."

"You know, Brian, you don't have to put up with this. My offer still stands."

"You mean to finish Law school, pass the bar, and go into practice with your firm? Right now it's more tempting than it would have been yesterday, but without a job I can't pay the tuition. That's why I dropped out in the first place."

"You and I both know that it isn't true. You had a scholarship. You dropped out when your parents died to put your little sister through college."

"Well, I made a good living in sales and I'm afraid I can't go back to being an impoverished student. Sorry, Tony, as much as I appreciate the offer, I have to do this my way."

"It's a damn shame, Brian. You showed real promise in Law school. Are you sure I can't change your mind?"

"I think you know me better than that."

"Yes, but I had to try. Well, good luck. You're going to need it." He stood and extended his hand, which Brian took. They shook firmly.

As Brian went to the door, Tony said, "Could you at least have dinner with me tonight?"

"Afraid not, Tony, I have to work tomorrow. But I intend to give Ms. Pelozzi a call. Thanks for helping me out." And with that he left the office.

Brian hardly noticed the steps as he walked to the subway platform. He got onto the crowded car and grabbed a strap. As the car wound its way to Brian's stop, a man rose and offered his seat to Brian. "That's OK, buddy, I can stand," Brian answered. The gentleman did a double-take, but returned to his seat.

Climbing up the steps to the street proved to be more of a challenge than going down had been, but Brian managed. He returned to his apartment to find several parcels had been left at his door. It was his new wardrobe purchased that day at Goldwyn's.

Brian unpacked all of his new purchases and carefully put them away. He had ample closet space for his male wardrobe, but now it competed for space with his feminine items. Somehow he managed to get everything away. His feet were sore and his bra was killing him. Thankfully, he unzipped, unhooked, unfastened, and squeezed himself out of everything. He carefully hung up his outerwear and put his underwear in the hamper. He reflected that his weekend laundry chores would now be a lot more complicated.

Brian was beat. He took a hot shower, had a light supper, and collapsed onto his bed wearing boxers. At least he could be male in his own bed.

* * * * *

At 5:00 AM the alarm dutifully screamed at the top of its electric lungs, waking Brian from a fitful sleep. He dragged himself out of bed hurling curses at the motherless son who invented morning, then jumped into the shower. His preparations were going to take longer today.

With the water running Brian undertook the very unfamiliar task of shaving his legs. He spread some gel over his legs. The gel formed a lather that eventually covered his lower leg. He then took the lady's razor he had purchased yesterday and attempted to remove his leg hairs. He immediately discovered that this process was not at all like shaving his face. But he persisted, and with only a very few nicks he soon had smooth legs.

He repeated the process on his arms, including the backs of his hands. He was shocked at the final result. His arms were now hairless and while he never considered himself a weakling, seemed rather devoid of any sort of muscle definition. He would have to work on that.

He didn't forget his armpits, although they didn't take anywhere near as long as his legs. The sensation of armpits sans hair was different but not completely unpleasant. At least, not until he sprayed on some deodorant and discovered where he had nicked himself.

He finished his shower, dried himself off, and proceeded to shave his face. He tried to get extra close. He had originally wanted to let some stubble show through his foundation just to make a point, but he thought better of it. Lipscey was already antagonized at him, there was no use exacerbating the situation.

Getting dressed took him longer than expected. The panties were no problem, but he needed to wear a long-line bra and a padded girdle. He struggled into the garments, remembering how to hook everything from his adventures yesterday. With his forms in place he had to admit, he had a passably good feminine figure.

Putting on makeup was a new experience. It had been applied for him at the store. Now he had to try to duplicate the techniques he had been shown while looking in a mirror. Apparently he had paid attention because he managed to get his foundation on smoothly and not heavily, and he used eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow, blush and lipstick without looking like a refugee from a drag queen review. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.

His last step was the wig. He placed it on and adjusted the Velcro closures to keep it snug on his head. It felt hot and sweaty. But after combing it the wig regained its style. Brian had to admit, he looked pretty.

He had a quick breakfast of a toasted English muffin with marmalade and coffee. He swung his purse over his shoulder and, for the first time, ventured into the morning in a dress.

He immediately felt like he was naked. The high heels hadn't made much noise on the carpeted hallway, but once he stepped out of the elevator he was acutely aware of their distinctive clicking. It seemed even louder as he walked the pavement outside. The sound of his heels seemed to reverberate off every vertical surface in the concrete canyons of the city. The air was also cooler in the morning and he suppressed a shiver as the air circulated around his nylon-encased legs and under his skirts. Brian had a panic attack. He swore that everybody in the city had somehow developed some supernatural perception and immediately knew he was a man.

The panic did not last long. Brian recalled the attitude he had developed yesterday afternoon. He would not only get to work, he would do so with defiance! He boldly swiped his transit card through the subway turnstile and stood on the platform for his train. He entered as the doors opened and took a seat. Without thinking he crossed his legs, affecting a very feminine manner. Some of the men on the subway car noticed. Brian attracted more than a few appreciative glances. But for the most part, transit riders exercised the polite ritual of ignoring everybody else (or seeming to) and focusing upon that minuscule personal space afforded by public transportation.

Brian transferred to another train that dropped him off near Goldwyn's Department Store. He climbed the stairs to street level and, high heels clicking, strode through the main entrance of Goldwyn's and up to the staff lounge to clock in.

A crowd had gathered at the time clock. Dozens of eyes watched as Brian swiped his employee ID through the clock and put the lanyard attached to it around his neck. Several held their hands out in triumph as a number of bets were paid off. Apparently Brian's plight had generated some sporting interest.

Brian was somewhat amused by the attention. He smiled as he turned to take his station in Lingerie. And as expected, he was met by Barbara Lipscey.

"Northrop," she said, "you really are a stubborn son of a gun. I expected you to bail out by now. Do you realize just how ridiculous you are?"

"Now how could I possibly look ridiculous, Ms. Lipscey?" Brian replied, not bothering to mask his sarcasm. "After all, everything you see here was purchased at Goldwyn's. Are you saying the sales associates are incompetent or just plain vindictive?"

"Damn you, Northrop, have you no sense of humiliation? You've made yourself the laughing stock of the store!"

"You made me this way, Lipscey. If I'm a laughing stock it is entirely your fault. Are you admitting that this is all just a scam to force me to resign?"

Lipscey did a slow burn. "All right, Northrop, get out there with the other girls. By the way, nice shoes."

"Thank you, dear, I got them at Goldwyn's." Brian smiled and took his place at the lingerie counter.

It didn't take long for a few customers to show up. One lady in particular started holding some bras against herself while looking in the mirror. Brian decided it was time to close his first sale in lingerie.

"May I help you?" he asked.

The woman looked around, startled. When she saw Brian, she relaxed. "Goodness," she said, "for a minute I thought I heard a man."

"You did," Brian said.

"Oh, well, I, that is…" the woman stammered.

"Please, don't be nervous," Brian said, "Goldwyn's prides itself on making our customers comfortable, and as you can see, we will do whatever it takes."

The woman looked a bit perplexed, but saw Brian's store ID. "You are really a sales associate here?"

"I could call security if you like," he offered.

"No, I don't think that would be necessary. I was just looking at these, uh, bras and wanted a little help."

"I see. That is one of our finer models and it comes in several nice colors. Do you know your size?"

"Well, I usually buy a 34B."

"Have you ever been measured for a proper fit?"

"Why no; is that important?"

"Yes it is. It had been estimated that at least half of the women in America are wearing the wrong size bra, and that means they can never get comfortable. And when you wear a bra all day, comfort is important, don't you agree?"

"Oh, definitely, these things are torture as it is. I just can't wait to get home and get out of it."

"I hear you, hon. Would you like me to measure you? We can use the fitting rooms."

The woman hesitated, realizing that she was about to be measured for intimate apparel by a man. Then Brian called to one of the other sales girls. "Julie, could you help me with a customer? Miss…"

"Slattery, and it's Mrs."

"Mrs. Slattery needs to be fitted for a bra. Could you give me a hand, please?"

"I'll be right there, Brian," Julie answered. Reassured by knowing that another woman would be present, Mrs. Slattery followed Brian into the fitting room.

Brian took a tape measure and ran it around Mrs. Slattery's chest, just below her breasts. "Well, it looks like 35 and one half inches. Your best band size would be a 36. What do you think, Julie?"

"Yes, that looks right. Let's see your bust size, hon."

With Julie watching, Brian measured Mrs. Slattery's bust. "And it looks like you need something a bit larger than a B cup, but not quite a C. I think you will like one of the features of that model, Mrs. Slattery. It comes in half cup sizes. Let me pick out a few size 36 B2. You really should try them on before buying." Brian returned to the sales floor, leaving Julie and Mrs. Slattery behind.

"Well, I never expected to find a man selling lingerie in Goldwyn's," said Mrs. Slattery, "and never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to be, well, dressed like one of us."

"To tell the truth, ma'am, I never thought anything like this would ever happen, but Brian is quite a team player. He cares about his customers."

Brian returned with several bras and panties. "Here are a few different colors to try on, and I picked some nice matching panties for you as well. You can use the booth to change. Perhaps when you are finished you might like to try some nice slips."

"Yes, I would. You certainly are being helpful."

"That's the Goldwyn standard; we pride ourselves in going the extra mile for our customers."

Mrs. Slattery eventually bought several bras, panties, and slips. Brian shared the sale with Julie, so they both got a commission. The morning was busy without being overwhelming. Brian and Julie formed an effective team, and steered customers toward other departments as well.

Barbara Lipscey kept her eye on Brian, hoping to catch him in some mistake that would give her an excuse to berate him in front of the other associates. None was forthcoming. And after a few hours, she had to admit to herself, albeit grudgingly, that Brian was doing well.

While she was watching, Julie caught Lipscey's eye and held up two fingers. Barbara nodded. Julie said to Brian, "Let's take a break and grab a smoke."

Brian said, "I don't smoke."

"Well if you want a break you had better take up the habit, otherwise Bitch Barbie will work you without any relief."

"I have to smoke to get a break?"

"Yep; Dragon Lady is a smoker herself and doesn't mind giving smoke breaks, mostly because she takes so many herself. Come on, hon, you can have one of mine. Let's head to the tent."

The tent was a covered area on the rooftop of Goldwyn's. It was the only place on the premises where smoking was permitted. Julie took out a pack of Misty 120's and handed the pack to Brian. Brian removed one, lit the end, inhaled some smoke, and started to cough. "Jesus, is a break worth that?"

"Don't inhale the smoke, Brian; just sort of wave it around. For one thing it will make it last longer."

"Won't Lipscey get suspicious if she sees me up here obviously not smoking?"

"Every now and then just blow through it. It will make the end glow and look like you're actually smoking. That's what I do."

"So you don't really smoke?"

"Hell no, the only reason I have this pack is to get an occasional break out of the Bitch Queen. I buy 120's because they last longer."

Brian cautiously experimented with blowing through the cigarette. It produced the desired effect. "That's good," he said, "now I don't have to taste smoke all day."

"I know what you mean. Back when I smoked, after a while everything started to taste like a cigarette. When I drank a cup of tea and it tasted like a cigarette, I knew it was time to quit."

Brian laughed. He faked another drag on his cigarette. "Thanks for lending me a smoke, Julie. To tell the truth I didn't think I would have many friends in the department."

"Well I did win a bet this morning, but what makes you think you have no friends?"

"I thought everybody would be mad at me for bumping Katie Mulhairn."

Julie started to laugh. "Brian, didn't you know she was going to quit?"

"Quit? But why?"

"She's pregnant, hon, only management doesn't know it yet. If Barbie the Bitch found out, she would have ridden her back like a bull rider to get her to quit. Thanks to you she has sixteen week's severance pay and unemployment. She's going to stay at home to care for the baby."

"Oh, I didn't know."

"Not too many people did, Brian. Say, we're throwing her a surprise baby shower next week. Would you like to come?"

"I don't know. I've never been to a baby shower. Isn't that really a female thing?"

"Well, you're one of us now, I'm sure Katie won't mind. It's after work next week at General Joe's. We're telling her it's a going-away party. Won't she be surprised?"

"I bet she will. Thanks for inviting me, Julie."

"No problem, Brian. By the way, she's registered at Baby Corner. She thought it was too dangerous to register here. You know how word gets around."

"I'll have to stop by Baby Corner and pick out something. Say, that reminds me, I need to make a phone call." Brian opened his purse and dialed the number his friend Tony had given him.

"Hello, is this Jane Pelozzi?" he asked.

The voice at the other end said, "Yes, how may I help you?"

"My name is Brian Northrop. You were recommended by a mutual friend, Anthony Brown."

"I would hardly call Brown a friend since we often seem to be on opposite sides of a case, but I respect him as an attorney. Why would he refer you to me?"

"It involves a case of sexual harassment at work. I'm a sales associate at Goldwyn's Department Store, and in order to keep my job I am required to dress in women's clothing."

There was a brief silence. "Mr. Northrop, if this is a joke I am quite frankly not in the mood."

"Ms. Pelozzi, I am not joking. Right now I am on my break. I am wearing a long-line bra, panties, a padded girdle, a slip, nylons, high heels, and a teal dress with a peplum skirt. I am wearing makeup and a wig. If I refused to wear these I would have been fired."

There was a pregnant pause as Pelozzi thought. "Can you come over to my office dressed as you are?"

"I'm working until 4:30."

"Do you know where the GenderLaw Project headquarters is located?"

"It's about four blocks from Goldwyn's."

"Good. Meet me in my office as soon as you can. We need to talk."

"Thank you, Ms. Pelozzi."

"Don't thank me just yet. You may have a case, but then again you may not. Can you bring a copy of Goldwyn's dress policy for employees?"

"Yes, I can."

"Bring it. I'll see you in my office tonight."

"Thank you, Ms. Pelozzi. I appreciate it." He closed his cell phone.

"What was that about?" Julie asked.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure."

"I'm seeing a lawyer tonight. I'm thinking about suing Goldwyn's."

"Wow!" Julie said. "Where did you find a lawyer with the stones to take on Goldwyn's?"

"I don't know if she exactly qualifies for that attribute. A friend gave me her name."

"Well keep it a secret from the Dragon Lady. If she finds out about it, your life here will make Hell seem like a vacation."

They stubbed out their cigarettes and returned to work, just in time to find Lipscey dressing down a co-worker.

"Janet," she said, speaking to Janet Stoudt from Casual Wear, "your stockings have a run that looks like a railroad track. Now you know I insist on hose without runs. This is simply unacceptable for Goldwyn's. You will return home and change immediately."

"Couldn't I just get a pair of nylons from hosiery and change in the ladies room?" Janet asked.

"Yes, that would be acceptable, but do it off the clock. Clock out right now and go change. You will also be docked half an hour for the time you spent wearing ruined hose while working. Get going right now."

Janet swiped her badge through the time clock and entered the code for "Out." She then proceeded to hosiery to get another pair of stockings, suppressing her desire to strangle Barbara Lipscey.

Lipscey turned, noticing that she had an audience. She had known all along that she was being watched, and had taken pains to be extra severe with Janet. Lipscey definitely believed in fear as a management tool. "Go back to work," she said, "there's nothing to see here." She smiled as Julie and Brian returned to their stations.

"Is she always like that?" Brian asked.

"Whenever she gets a chance," Julie answered. "Brian, she watches us like a hawk and as soon as she senses an opportunity, she swoops in. Just watch yourself around her."

"Thanks for the advice."

The morning continued without any problems. Business was good. They went to lunch at 11:30 at the employee cafeteria.

"Say, Brian, would you like to sit with us? I usually sit with a few friends."

"Thanks, I'd like that, as long as nobody minds."

The girls were all a little curious about Brian's first working day in a dress. They all laughed when he described the initial reaction of customers when they realized he was really a man. But once that novelty faded, they all talked about pretty much the same thing. Marcie talked about her husband and her kids. Melanie had a new boyfriend. Alice was moving next week. Everybody was talking about Katie's pregnancy and the upcoming baby shower. Brian kept quiet, listening but unable to offer any contribution.

Then somebody mentioned Lipscey docking Janet this morning.

"Can you imagine docking her a half hour's pay?" Fran said. "Honestly, it was just a run, and Janet fixed it immediately. Bitch Barbie certainly has her nerve!"

"Yeah, but what can we do?" Alice said. "Dragon Lady has us between a rock and a hard place, and she just loves squeezing. Some day she's going to get what's coming to her."

Brian spoke up. "Has anyone tried to stand up to her?"

"You were the last one to try, Brian," said Marcie, "and look where it got you."

"At least I have company at lunch," he said. Everyone laughed.

"Listen," said Fran, "we all sort of admire you for what you are doing, Brian, but nobody who ever crossed swords with Bitch Barbie ever came out on top. The best you can hope for is to keep your nose clean and don't attract attention. Right now you are her pet project, so it will be hard. But for what it's worth, we're all on your side."

Brian was stunned. He never expected to be accepted so quickly. "Does everybody feel this way?" he asked.

"Everybody but Lipscey," Fran said. "And we had better get back to work in time for the noon crowd or Dragon Lady will be breathing fire up our skirts."

Lunchtime was busy time at Goldwyn's, a fact Brian had never appreciated before working in Lingerie. Most of his sales in the Electronics department occurred at night when his customers were done work. He only needed a few sales of big-ticket televisions or stereos to generate a sizeable commission. Working Lingerie, he needed to hustle to keep his commissions on par. The fact that he was now wearing high heels didn't help.

At about 2:00 the crowd diminished. Julie and Brian went up to the tent for a smoke break. Fran was already there. They slowly burned away another 120 and returned to work.

Lipscey was watching as they returned. Brian thought that she was aching to find some chink in his armor and home in for the kill. He smiled sweetly. She couldn't even criticize his make-up as he had refreshed it before returning.

During the day, Brian was careful to use only the unisex Family bathroom. He did not want to chance a confrontation with Lipscey over the proper rest room to use. Either choice left him vulnerable.

He had helped several customers that afternoon and his feet were killing him when he was approached by a somewhat unusual customer.

"Excuse me," the man asked, "can you help me?"

The customer was a middle-aged man of slight build. Strands of gray hair intertwined with brown on a head showing the first signs of pattern baldness. Round metal-rimmed eyeglasses lent an owlish appearance to the fellow.

"This is the Lingerie department," Brian answered. "How may I direct you?"

The man seemed nervous. "I hoped that you might understand. I mean, you're a man. My wife told that there was a man working here."

"Sir," said Brian, "I want to help, but I need to know what you are looking for."

The man looked around as though he were afraid of something. Then he said, "I want to buy a bra."

"Of course, sir; what is your wife's size?"

"It isn't for her. It's for me."

Brian was definitely surprised, but he didn't show it. "Oh, of course, sir, do you know your size or do you need to be measured?"

"I'm not really sure. I usually just borrow my wife's bra."

"Well if this is for yourself you really should get measured. I can help you with that. Could you step into the fitting room?"

"Aren't they for women?"

"Each fitting room is private, sir. Just follow me, please Mr. …"

"Mosley; George Mosley." He extended his hand, which Brian clasped firmly.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mosley," said Brian as they entered the fitting room. "I'm Brian Northrop."

"Pleased to meet you, Brian. Wow, I don't know what to expect. I've never done anything like this before."

"If it's any consolation, neither have I. Now please raise your hands." Brian measured the man's chest just below the pectorals. "Your band size is 32," he said. "But I don't know how to figure your cup size."

"I'd like a C-cup," George said. "And do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"What sort of question, Mr. Mosley?"

"Well, what do you use for, you know, boobs?"

"Oh, no problem; I use foam breast forms designed for mastectomy patients. If you like I can have Julie recommend some. She's our mastectomy specialist."

"I think I would like that," George said.

"Fine. Let me go select a few styles you might like and I'll send her in. Oh, could I also pick out a few panties for you?"

"Thank you, yes. I really didn't expect to be pampered this way."

"At Goldwyn's we always treat our customers well. I'll be right back."

Brian stepped out and asked Julie to show George some breast forms. She was a little surprised, but hey, a commission was a commission. While she was showing Mosley a few samples, Brian selected some bras and panties.

When Brian returned, Julie and Mosley were talking. "Brian," said Julie, "Mr. Mosley is going to use foam forms like yours. I showed him several types including silicone forms, but he has a limited budget."

"The foam forms are nice," Brian said, "I use them myself. Now here are a few different styles of bras and panties. You might want to try them on with the forms to get an idea of how they will fit."

"Thank you," said George. He ducked behind the curtain to change.

George ended up buying three bras and six panties as well as a set of foam breast forms and some slips. Brian directed George to the Women's Dresses department and assured him that he would get the same fine service there as he got in Lingerie.

"Thank you so very much," George said. "You don't know how long it took me to get up the nerve to do something like this. If my wife hadn't told me about you, don't think I would have ever tried."

"We're pleased to be of service," Brian said. "Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"Well, would you mind if I tell some of my friends about you?"

Friends?" Brian asked.

"Yes, crossdressers like me. I have a number of friends online and they might be interested in shopping at a friendly place."

"Goldwyn's is definitely friendly," Brain said. "Your friends are welcome to shop here."

"Thank you, I'll be glad to refer them to you. Well, I think I'd like to get a new dress for myself. Goodbye."

"Have a wonderful day," Brian said.

As he walked off, Julie asked, "Do you think that was a good idea, having him send his friends?"

"I don't see why not," said Brian. "His money is as good as anyone else's."

"Somehow, I don't think the Dragon Lady will be happy about it."

Brian just smiled.

4:30 finally arrived. Brian and Julie clocked out and headed for the subway. "This first day turned out pretty well, Brian. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Julie," Brian replied. He watched as Julie caught the express train to the transfer station. He caught the next train, a local that dropped him off just beneath the building where the GenderLaw Project maintained its offices. Brian made his way to the entrance and up the elevator to the office.

The GenderLaw Project office was not impressive in the way of Cooper, Brown, and Colson LLC. The furniture consisted of serviceable but well used metal desks, cabinets, and file cabinets. The receptionist, a grey-haired lady with her hair in a tight bun, directed Brian to Jane Pelozzi's office.

Pelozzi was seated behind one of the ubiquitous metal desks piled high with case folders. There was barely room for the laptop PC she had perched there. Metal shelves full of document boxes competed for space with filing cabinets and bookcases stacked with case law volumes. Pelozzi herself was not imposing, thin and short with long blonde hair tied in a ponytail. She looked up.

She was momentarily startled, but quickly composed herself. "Are you Brian Northrop?" she asked.

"I am," said Brian. "I assume you are Jane Pelozzi."

"I am," she said, extending a hand. It was now Brian's turn to be surprised, as Pelozzi's grip was unusually firm, bordering on crushing. "Pleased to meet you, Brian. Do you mind if I call you Brian?"

"Not at all."

"Good. My name is Jane. Now why don't you begin by telling me about your current situation?"

Brian related all of the events of the previous day, adding his experiences today. Pelozzi took notes on a yellow legal pad, interrupting occasionally with questions. She seemed especially interested in Brian's story about Janet getting docked for a run in her stocking.

"Do you think she might be willing to testify?" Jane asked.

"I don't know. There is a real fear of reprisals. We all need our jobs and don't want to get fired."

Jane made a few more notes. "Did you bring a copy of the company dress code policy?" she asked.

"Here it is," Brian said, handing it over to her.

"Thank you. Now could you please step over here? I want to get some photographs of you."

"Why do you need photographs?" Brian asked.

"I may need to establish that you are required to commute while dressed in female clothes. Does Goldwyn's supply a locker room where you can get changed?"

"No, at least not for sales associates. I think management has lockers."

Pelozzi made another note on her legal pad, then said, "OK, let's take a few photos."

"Should I smile?" Brian asked.

"No, we don't want to present the possibility that this is voluntary behavior," Jane answered. "Also, smiling will foul up facial recognition software. We want to be able to establish that these photos have not been altered."

Brian stood while Jane took several pictures. She took a full length shot, several facial shots, and a number of detailed shots from several angles. "That's great. I have to do a bit of research, but I think we can definitely make a case. I hope you're up for a fight, Brian. Goldwyn's is a tough opponent in court."

"Does this mean you're taking my case?" he asked.

"I decided to take your case the minute I saw you. Normally GenderLaw doesn't represent males, but this is probably one of the worst cases of sexual harassment against a man I have ever seen. What I need to decide now is how to pursue it."

Brian was elated. For the first time in days he felt like he might actually have a chance. "Thank you, Jane, I don't know how I can…" He found himself unable to say anything else. In fact he began to cry.

Brian had not cried since he was nine. He had always been a very self-assured man. The idea that he might spontaneously break into tears was something he just never considered. But tears welled up in his eyes. He tried to fight them back but could not.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Jane handed him a box of tissues. "Don't feel self-conscious," she said. "My clients usually break down right about now. They feel like its them against the world and suddenly they have an ally. Go ahead and get it out."

"Thank you," he said. The tears quickly subsided. Brian blew his nose. "I guess I better check my makeup," he said.

"You can use our bathroom," Jane said. "You know, it's getting late. Have you had dinner yet?"

"No, and I'm famished."

"Good, there's a little bistro not too far from here. Their quiche is excellent and reasonably priced. We can talk about the case while we eat."

"Good, let's go."

"I want to warn you, Brian, this is not going to be easy. Goldwyn's lawyers fight dirty, and they are not above a smear campaign to discredit plaintiffs. You can expect to be called everything from a drag queen to a child molester. Are you up for it?"

Brian replied, "Yes. I was frightened into this, but by God I found my spine again. I want to fight back."

"That's the attitude you need. Come on and let's get some food."

Jane switched off the lights in her office. The receptionist had left for the evening, so she locked up. She and Brian took the elevator to the ground floor and they walked to the Flying Frenchman bistro. Dinner was going to be interesting.

 

(End of part 2)

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2006 by Valentina Michelle Smith. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.