Driven from Normal .

Simon McKenzie started his week normal enough, but after a series of events he found himself standing in a bar wearing a cocktail dress. Chapter 21.

My mouth was watering flat out as I crashed across the hallway to the toilet, making it with nanoseconds to spare. Mid-way through my conversation on the big white porcelain telephone, I heard Ben laughing outside the door,

“You Lite-weight! Can’t even handle…”

He immediately stopped talking as he opened the bathroom door.
I assumed the sight of me crouched over the bowl wearing a bra and panties was the reason, and sure enough it was confirmed with his next sentence,

“What the fuck? What's with the bra and knickers man?...”

I shrugged, fully expecting another full-on rant like last night, but he surprised me,

“I guess you drink like a girl, so you may as well dress like one!”

I couldn't look up, or even speak, so I used single finger for sign language to relay my response, as another wave rolled out of me.

“Really? Fuck sake! Are you ok or what?” Ben asked as he moved in and sat on the floor beside me.

I changed my still extended single middle finger to a thumbs up.

“Just peachy!” I managed to just get out between spits.

I’m not really sure how long we sat there until my nausea subsided enough that I could turn and sit on the floor.

“...the friggin state of ya!” Ben laughed, then picked up one of the breasts of the shower floor and lobbed it to me,

“...should have just kept these on ya big girl!”

It bounced off my arm and landed in my lap. He reached over and picked the other one up, holding it like was riddled with disease,

“Shit they’re heavy…” he said, examining it closer.

“Keep ya greasy mitts off my tits ya dirty ol' perv.” I chuckled,
“and hey, my eyes are over here mister!”

He burst out laughing,

“I can't even look at your eyes, they’re all gross and bloodshot!, Ewwww. Geez you're a mess!." He paused for a moment,
"So, do you need a hand up, or are you camping here the night?”

Ben flicked the other breast form at me as he stood up, extending out his hand. I pretended to snatch the two forms up and quickly stuffed them down the front of my sports bra to keep them safe or something, grinning as I then held out my hand for help up.

I lay back down on my bed, very, very slowly, although I was already feeling alot better after a quick purge. I knew then that Wednesday was going to be a totally wasted day and I wouldn’t be doing much, if anything. I must have gone to sleep very quickly as well, as I don't remember laying for very long at all.

I slept as soundly as you can after a night like that, but it ended very sharply, with someone knocking loudly on the door. I tried to ignore it and hoped whoever it was would go away.
After the second round of frantic knocking I lay there expecting Ben to answer it, but the third lot of knocks shortly after, meant I was going to have to drag my sorry arse out of bed. I grabbed the robe off the floor and pushed my arms through the sleeves as I staggered my way to the front door, squinting one eye to counter the effects of the rapidly developing and throbbing headache, and the filthy taste in my mouth was something else entirely.

I interrupted the fourth round of knocks when I aggressively swung the door open, ready to rip whoever it was a new one, but didnt when I was greeted by a very large Police officer. I’d like to think I did a fantastic job of greeting them sober looking but that would be a lie.
The smells of booze, and possibly my morning breath would have hit him like a bus as I’d swung the door open, and I think I spotted a tiny flinch in one of his eyes that confirmed my suspicions.

“Good morning Miss, sorry to bother you. I’m Constable Forrest, just wondering if I can ask you a few quick questions?”

“Ummm, yeah sure, I guess? What's this about?” The tone of panic in my dry croaky voice must have been obvious.

“No, no Miss, nothing too much to worry about. There was a break-in last night, or early this morning at your neighbours and we’re just making enquiries to help with the investigation.”

“Oh shit! Are they ok?” I asked,

“Yes, they are fine. They were out for the night”

He took his notebook and pen out and started writing something down, before looking back at me. I was asked if I had been home last night, what time I’d gotten home yesterday afternoon, what time I’d gone to bed and had I heard anything during the night etc.
I was really struggling to remember any details and explained that we’d had a pretty big night, which led into another few questions about who’d I been here with. I was just starting to explain how it was just Ben and I, when he appeared from nowhere, standing behind me looking over my shoulder.

“What’s happened?”

Another run through of everything caught him up to speed with the situation.

“And what was your name sir?” the cop asked,

“Ah, Ben”

“Great, sorry, and last name Ben?”

“Ah, Hutton”

The cop then looked at me,

“And your’s?”

“McKenzie!” I couldn't recall if I'd given him my first name either so then added “Simon”

“That’s great, Thank you Miss Simon.'' Jotting it into his notepad.

Ben snorted at the mistake and the confused look on my face, quickly composed himself when the Policeman looked back up at him, covering himself by sniffing again. The Cop asked if we lived together, we both nodded, then he continued and asked how long we had lived here, as he added the answers to his pad.

“Okay. So you were both here all night from around 3;30pm, just the two of you. You went out for tea and returned around 7:00 pm for the evening. Any idea what time you went to bed?”

Ben looked at me for a clue about the time, I had nothing and shrugged…

“Umm, it was a fairly full-on night to be honest, but I’d say we both went to bed around 1:30ish?..” he said, politely smiling but really battling the brain fog to recall any helpful details.

It was the next sentence out of his mouth that will now live in my head rent free. Forever! I don't know if he even thought about anything at all before he announced it, and embarrassed all three of us.

“It was about a quarter past two when I was playing with your tits in the bathroom!”

“BEN, GEEZ! For fuck sake!” I was as shocked as the Policeman I think!

Then in an attempt to cover his verbal indiscretion and humiliation failed and he added more to it,

“Nah, ol mate here got up for a spew and needed a hand getting back to bed…”

He knew as he was saying it just how bad that all sounded and clammed up. The policeman, now feeling as awkward as either Ben or myself, flipped his pad shut and thanked us for our time. He quickly gave us a business card with his contact details asking to call him if we thought of anything else. Ben grabbed it from his hand, I was miles away replaying what Ben had just said, as well as everything else we’d told the cop, most of it would have absolutely made it sound like we’d been shagging all night. Bloody hell! Now the cops will think there’s a gay couple living here.

Still a bit stunned, I walked towards the collection of empty bottles scattered all over the kitchen and living room and began collecting them up into the empty boxes as I gave Ben both barrels.

“You absolute friggin 'tool! Now that cop thinks we’re a couple of poofters. Did you not think, at all before you said that shit?”

“No! Shit, How embarrassing…. Oh god, what will we do?” Ben was starting to panic.

“Nothing ya ballbag, we’re not gay so who cares. Anyway, it’s not illegal and the cop doesn't give a rat's arse either way, but fucken hell, I could have crawled up my own arse to hide then.” I pushed a box full of empty bottles at him.

“Take these out to the wheelie bin. Dick!”

Ben carried both boxes out the back door towards the recycling bin at the side of the house, while I put the remaining full bottles into the fridge. I was still wiping the benches down when Ben arrived back in sniggering,

“Well good news! I just overheard that cop talking to his mate and he doesn’t think we’re gay!”

“Huh?”

“I heard him say to the other guy, that the neighbours weren’t any help, cause they were to busy shagging all night to hear anything”

“How the hell is that good news?” I asked, between Ben's increasing laughs and deep breaths, he managed to get out his answer,

“Cause, he then said, that he didn't blame me, because my girlfriend was very tidy and had had a great rack!”

“What?” I asked.

Still very confused, I then looked down at the two prosthetics, still nestled inside my sports bra from last night, and peering out of the bathrobe, still untied and wide open, fully exposing not just the top half, but also the black lace panties. It had been like that the whole time I’d been talking. Luckily my equipment was still neatly stowed away, and looked to be a smooth front girl area.

“Ahhh christ! Why didn't you say anything ya wanker?” quickly wrapping the robe around my waist tight and tying the belt up in a knot.

He shrugged,

“Didn't even notice you were flashing the Po-Po to be honest. And anyway, that’ll teach ya for dressin’ up like that!”

Feeling even more embarrassed, I retreated back to my room and climbed back under the covers to feel sorry for myself and hide away from the world, maybe forever. Surely, he must have wondered why I had a boy's face and a girl's body? I unlocked my phone and set the camera to selfie mode to inspect my face, …looked like a guy to me. Still no sign of my facial hair growing back in, but a man's face for sure. What the hell was in that stuff they used for the hair removal? It must have been radioactive or something…

I spent the rest of the day in bed dozing on and off between having cringey flashbacks or having to emerge for a drink of water, more headache pills or a pee.

I messaged Mel to apologise for anything I’d text that she might have thought was inappropriate, which was fairly likely looking at the texts I had sent, and the two phone calls I had made to her phone at different points of the evening. To my relief she found me to be “charming and sweet when pissed out of my tree” She’s definitely looking more and more like she's a keeper.

She asked me to send a selfie to see how rough I was looking, and not long after I had obliged, she came back with a comment about my bra, which she could just see the corner of in the picture. I then had to explain what had happened last night, followed by the interaction with the Police officer at the door this morning. That was too much for texting and my phone immediately rang for an in depth and fully detailed explanation.

“I’m pleased that you’re finding my public shaming so funny!”

“Ahhhh, my gawd I do, I really, really do! That is all just so friggin funny! Hahah. You really should be blonde doing that kind of dumb stuff! Ahhhh man, I so wish I’d been there to see that ....” Mel trailed off then went quiet.

“You ok?” I asked.

“Yeah,...... I’m just missing ya a bit” she replied softly.

“Miss you too!”

I broke the brief, but continuing silence,

“I might see if I can get down there again next weekend, aye?

“Ah yeah, that would be awesome!” Mels fizz levels amped back up again.

“Well, I see how I go, but, Dad is going down for the Field days, sooooo he might be able to drop me off for a couple of days on the way there or something?”

Mel was already making plans and what we could spend our time together doing. She still had a wedding makeup job booked in, but she thought that would only be a few hours first thing on Saturday morning, then she was free. I was more than confident I could make something happen, so with that in the works, we ended our call and I spent a few more hours napping, trying to recover my health to a more normal level. Completely as expected, all of Wednesday was cast off to the history books without achieving anything, other than exposing myself to a cop! Good times,... good times indeed!

It was starting to get dark when I ventured back to the kitchen to find something to eat that was a bit more substantial than water or panadol, it would need to be something that wouldn't make me dry reach at the thought of it. Marmite on fresh, hot toast, with heaps of melted butter turned out to be a super elixir for curing hangovers, and after a couple of rounds, I felt ok, maybe even as much as 60% normal again.

For all Ben’s bravado about being the greatest human ever when it came to holding booze, he still looked like a re-heated turd laying on the couch, he was watching a programme on TV about the original SAS guys in World War Two.

“These guys are really men, tough as balls!” Ben said without looking, but clearly directed at me as I collapsed down on the other couch.

“Pfffft, real men, whatever” I said as I adjusted the fake breasts.

“Why have you even still got those?”

I shrugged “Not really sure? Don't worry about it!... Just shut up and listen, this is pretty good!”

The next morning I woke early, well before my alarm was due to go off. It took a few minutes to really know if I was still feeling crook from the day before, I was definitely still a little dusty but, well within acceptable operating parameters.

After a shower, a severe brushing of the teeth and the now familiar, moisturising routine, I was ready to get dressed.
Not wanting any chance of repeat situation like yesterday, I stayed well away from anything even close to female clothing, even my underwear couldn't be misconstrued as unisex, and I actually made a very conscious effort in making sure my shorts and shirt were undoubtedly male, just in case.

After wasting the day away yesterday I had a lot of things to do before my late afternoon flight to Taupo, including picking up my Tux and I also needed a haircut to tidy myself up. When I called my regular Barber, trying to sneak in a quick trim, my plans were scuttled straight away. He was away sick and the other Barber was "under the pump" he said, and wouldn’t have any time until after 4:30pm. An hour and a half after my flight drparted. Nevermind, it wasn't that bad.

After breakfast, I spent some time packing my suitcase before driving over to the suit rental place. On the way, I passed a fancy looking hair salon, and it looked like they'd just opened up. I figured it was worth a cheeky shot for a cut as I still had plenty of time up my sleeve. I even scored a park right outside the door, it was meant to be!.

"Kelly with an eye" at the counter, seemed friendly enough, weird name, but who am I to judge, and she didn't have any appointments for another hour, so good enough for me. She led me to the chair, sat me down, then without a word of a lie, selected top gear with her mouth and talked about anything and everything. I was questioned within an inch of my life about styles I liked, then she started on about colours.

I happened to mention that my girlfriend thought I should be blonde as my hair was being washed again. I'd tried to say I'd only done it that morning, but she didn't hear me. Anyway, that was done. My hair was dried off, with what I would assume was an industrial strength hair dryer, either that or it was a reclaimed Soviet jet engine.

"Kelly with an eye" appeared with little swatches of hair, in dozens of different colours, all waved passed at the speed of sound. I didn't require a real light colour with my skintones I was informed, and "this one will look warmer", which I never actually saw as it was.

The colour took about thirty five minutes or so before it was finally time for a trim.

"Short on the sides and back, maybe a number two, and left a bit longer on top please" which was also my standard request at the Barbers.

"Oooh fabulous, love it, like a swept pixie cut!" "Kelly with an eye" said as she went into full Edward ScissorHands mode.

"Maybe it was Kelly Withini?" I was thinking as I seized a brief chance to wipe a clump of hair from the tip of my nose.

"Love that colour on your nails Hun!"

"Frig, that's right I still need to ditch those, and the stuff off my feet" I thought to myself.

"Kelly Withini" talked away as she snipped and shaved my unruly locks into something more groomed looking, all the time telling me about her life and then asking me about mine. It was relentless, she asked about my job, about Mel, where I'd gotten my earrings, and then, just as my autopilot answering system was about to engage, she asked how my parents reacted when they found out that I was a lesbian…

"Ummmm, ya what now?" Did I no longer exude any manliness at all now or what? Friggin awesome, now I'm getting mistaken for a blonde lesbian, even in my boy clothes and without the breast forms.

I politely smiled through the rest of the haircut, thanked her for the job she'd done, which did look very nice by the way, paid the bill and went on my way. I didn't think the style screamed big tough bloke, but it also didn't scream girly-girl, maybe my regular Barber could "man it up" a bit more next week?

Feeling a bit deflated, my next stop at the suit hire only made my mood worse. The guy working there recognized me as soon as I walked in, asking me what job I had this time that needed a Tux. At least he knows I'm a guy.

With my details already on the computer system he had my suit sorted in no time.
When he insisted I try it on, just to be sure, and I looked in the mirror, my gut sank just a little more.

The reflection in the mirror was mine obviously, but no matter how hard I tried to tell myself any different, all I could see was a blonde chick with a man's Tux on.