4 _Joe_Bates_Saga___________________________________________________________ 4. Chapter : The Meeting The traffic was heavy. Joe drove as quickly as he could to his lunch appointment with his attorney and best friend, Jay Logan. It was about ten minutes after the agreed upon time when he finally pulled into the parking lot of the Beacher Restaurant. He parked, awkwardly got out of his sports car wearing the skirt and heels, and tried to walk into the establishment with as much dignity as he could muster. He stepped up to the head waiter's podium, and told the young lady that he was to meet with a friend, who might already be here. She asked his name, and he said Joe Bates. She looked at her notes, and said, "Please follow me, Ms. Bates." Joe walked behind her and almost fell against her as they went down a few heavily carpeted steps. She led him to a softly lighted table where he saw his pal Jay seated, sipping on a Corona. Jay looked up at him, confused, and said, "May I help you, ma'am?" Joe did not know exactly what to say, or how to start. He did not want to go into an explanation with the waiter standing there, so he just said, "May I sit, Mr. Logan?" Jay stood and pulled out a chair for Joe as he took his seat. At the waiter's inquiry, he ordered some white wine. The waiter said, "Of course," and went away. Jay looked at him, puzzled. Joe just stared at Jay. Before, he was larger, and heavier than Jay, who now seemed huge. Joe got up his courage, and blurted out, "Jay, it's me, Joe!" Jay grinned, "Right, and I'm Margaret Thatcher!" Joe had not realized that he might have trouble convincing his best buddy who he was, but the problem was quickly becoming evident. "Jay, I don't know what has happened to me," he pleaded, "but I need your help." Jay looked at his watch, and said, "It's a little late for an April fools' joke, don't you think?" Then he said, "I'm pleased to meet you. I didn't even know Joe had a sister, much less one as good looking as you." "Oh, no!" thought Joe. "Now he thinks I'm my sister!" He pushed on, though, saying, "Jay, I don't have a sister, and you know it, and don't give me any come-on crap." Jay looked at him closely. "What's going on here?" he asked. "I really wish I knew," Joe said. "I woke up this morning looking like this, and I don't have clue as to what is going on." "You're serious, aren't you?" Jay said. "Never been more serious in my life, Jay," Joe answered. "I really don't know what I should do. If you saw what I did this morning, you wouldn't believe it." "I'm not sure I do," said Jay. "Okay," Joe said. "Remember Wednesday evening, at the health club, you snapped the ball at me, and I almost broke my neck trying to get to it? My knee still hurts." He watched for signs of acknowledgment on Jay's face. "Okay," Jay replied. "Let's say you are my friend Joe, and I must admit your face does look a lot like him. What can I possibly do for you?" "I have to prove to everybody that I am still Joe Bates no matter how I look on the outside," Joe returned. "I know you can help me do it. Then I need to get medical help to get my normal features back, or, God help me, if I'm stuck like this, I've got to get my records changed so that I can function without the legal problems I know that I will have. My personal problems, I'm not sure about. I don't even know what they all are yet." "Well, don't worry, Joe, I'll help," said Jay, seeing his friend looking so grim. "I'm not sure what will have to be done, but we will do whatever is necessary to help you. Can I ask a rather personal question, though, Joe?" "Sure, Jay," Joe answered. "I trust you, and besides, you're my only hope right now." "I'm embarrassed to ask, but I'm about to die of curiosity," Jay said. "Joe, you sure look like a woman. Are you female?" Joe looked at his buddy, and saw his longtime pal was eyeing his curves. "I don't know, Jay," he said. "I don't really know what I am, but I can tell you that what you see is all me. You should see me in Jockey shorts." He grinned at his buddy, saying, "I don't believe I'll be chasing babes with you, for a while at least, much as I would like to. I don't feel like a woman. In fact, I feel like a rooster in the hen house. You can't imagine what it's like just to take a shower looking like this. I don't know if my heart can take it." He figured Jay would understand his predicament if anybody would, or could. The waiter returned with Joe's wine, and brought the menu. Jay said, "Give us a few moments, please." The waiter nodded, and left. "I think I'll have just the salad bar," he said, turning back to Joe. Joe agreed. He was not even hungry. His stomach had never quit feeling like a can of worms. He felt the warmth of the wine as it went down. "Everything is more pronounced now," he thought. "I could probably get tipsy on this little glass of wine, especially since I have yet to eat anything today." When the waiter returned, they ordered. They both went to the salad bar together. Jay followed, watching his friend walk awkwardly in the heeled shoes. When they returned to their tables, he said. "Joe, if I had any doubts about you telling the truth, watching you walk to the salad bar removed them. No real woman would walk like that if she tried." "You should try it sometime, pal," Joe said, smiling demurely, "and walking in these shoes isn't the half of it." As they ate, Jay discussed some of the things they would need to do. He said he had a friend on the police force, who was a specialist in proving identification, usually on murder related cases where the victim is unknown. "You were in the Air Force, so there's a record of your fingerprints," Jay said. "Do you think your prints have changed?" Joe said, "I don't know, Jay. I do know that my knee is still sprained from the other night with you, and even though my arms are smaller, my right one still has scars I received from an auto accident twelve years ago. Damn it, I don't know what's happened to me! I feel the same, at least as much as is possible, but I do seem to look female. If you're having a problem with this, think about it from my side. I have to live with it continuously." Joe looked like he was ready to burst into tears. "I'll call you as soon as I make some contacts, probably tomorrow morning," Jay said, as they finished lunch. "We'll get this worked out as quickly as we can. What are you going to do now?" "I can't go to work like this, so I guess I'll go home," said Joe. "I have to call Linda, but I don't know what I'm going to tell her. Hell, I've got her slip on!" He blushed, continuing, "This is so embarrassing. I'm so worked up and tense, I don't know what to do." Jay looked at his confused and dejected friend, not knowing what to say. "Hey, it's Friday," he said. "Let's meet at the health club at five-thirty, for our usual game." "Aw... uh... Jay I don't know," Joe protested. "I don't know if I'm ready for that." "Hell, Joe," Jay countered, "exercise is just what you need to relieve tension, and it might take your mind off your problems for a little while." "Well, okay. I'll be there, but I don't know how well I can play. I haven't been myself lately," Joe said, realizing how funny it sounded only after he said it. "I'll get this one," said Jay, as the waiter came up with the check when they were finished with lunch, "but I expect to see you this evening." "I'll meet you there," Joe promised. He was concerned about how he would react in a meat market like the health club, but he decided he could not hide under a rock either. As he walked out to his car, he thought of what he would need to play racquetball, and where he would go to get those things. He decided that he must go back to his apartment to take stock, and plan another shopping sortie. Joe drove back to his apartment, thinking, and decided that he should call Linda. She would be expecting a call, and he decided he had better make one. As he sat by the phone, he considered what he should say. What he would do. He dialed Linda's number. After a few rings he heard Linda answer, "Hello." "Linda?" Joe asked, trying to think of something to say. "What's up?" "Who is this?" Linda asked, confused. "Linda, it's me, Joe," he answered. "Joe?" Linda replied. "Joe, what's the matter? You sound strange. Is something wrong?" "Linda, I have to talk to you," Joe said nervously. "I have a little problem. Can I pick you up about seven-thirty, so we can talk?" "Sure, Joe, but what's the matter?" Linda said, sounding confused but concerned. "Do you have a cold? What do you want me to wear?" "Let's go to Bennigan's," Joe said. "You'll find out when I pick you up. See you about seven-thirty." Joe quickly hung up the phone, not knowing how to deal with Linda. Their relationship was very close, but he did not know how she would take him in his present condition. "Hell, I don't even know what sex I am," he thought. He decided his next task was deciding what to wear to play racquetball with Jay. In a way, he was glad to have something to take his mind off his relationship with Linda. "One problem at a time," he thought. He went to the foyer closet and retrieved his athletic bag. He carried it to his bedroom, and emptied it on the bed. The bag contained one smelly towel, his running shorts, an Adidas tee-shirt, his safety goggles, racquetball glove, three racquetball balls, and an athletic supporter. His racket was attached to a holster on the side of the bag. "Well, it doesn't look like much of this is salvageable," he thought, picking up the jockstrap, and stretching the waistband. Another trip to the mall would be required. He looked at what he had on, the white blouse, blue skirt, and heels, and decided that would be appropriate to wear to the mall. He arrived at the mall, and entered Sears for the second time that day. He was thinking about what he would have to get. He remembered a small shop called She Sports, and decided to look there. Walking into the little shop, he was surrounded by ladies' athletic and dance wear. As he looked at the colorful leotards, bike shorts, and form fitting bra tops, he thought about how he might look, wearing things like this, playing racquetball with his buddy, Jay. "Hell, I'd still beat him," he thought, grinning. "He couldn't keep his eyes off my butt." He was stretching the spandex of a jogging bra, when the young saleswoman walked over, and asked, "What can I do for you, miss?" "I'm looking for something to wear to play racquetball," he said. He felt much more confident than this morning, but he did not know if it was because he was more familiar with his anatomy or his clothes. "What did you have in mind?" the woman asked. "I don't know," Joe replied. "What do you recommend?" "What is your size?" the woman countered, eyeing his body through the skirt and blouse. "Thirty-four, twenty-two, thirty-four," Joe replied, grinning smugly. He knew what he was doing now, or so he thought. "Well, you're in shape, aren't you, but what are your clothing sizes?" she said with a laugh. "I think I wear a size seven or eight," he said, embarrassed. "How much coverage are you looking for?" she asked. "Coverage?" he replied, looking confused. "Do you wear tights?" the woman asked, holding some of the items up as she talked. "Do you want shorts or pants? What kind of top are you thinking of?" Joe decided to use his standard, "What do you recommend?" The young woman looked at Joe. "I think a leotard under some nylon shorts with a crop-top would look great on you," she said. "Do you have underwear?" "Sure," Joe said. "I've got panties, and a bra." "How about an exercise bra?" the woman suggested. "You'll feel more confident with the support of Jog-Bra like this. I also suggest a cotton sport panty with an absorbent terry liner." "Okay," said Joe. "Sounds like what I need all right." "Let's see which colors look best on you," said the woman, walking to the colorful leotards. Joe followed, thinking, "Colors again. I didn't realize women's clothes revolved around color until now." "I think royal blue sets off your figure," said the woman, "and some white tights will make a nice contrast. Maybe with these little shorts to set it off." She held up matching blue light nylon shorts which seemed to have a panty built in. She also had in her hand a little blue thing which looked like a short tank-top. Joe figured that it must be a crop-top. "Come with me," said the woman, taking the selections, and leading Joe to a small fitting area at the back of the store. He followed and she hung the items on a hook in the little cubicle, and left Joe to try them on. He closed the curtain, and removed his blue pumps. He was not sure if needed to remove the pantyhose, with all the trouble that entailed, but decided he better if he wanted to see if the snug fitting clothing fit properly. He removed his skirt, and carefully hung it and his blouse on the hanger provided. He stood there in his pink panty and bra. He looked at the capri-type tights, and figured that they would be a lot like pantyhose, so he pulled them on. They made his legs look great. He was not sure if he should remove his bra, and decided it was best to leave it on. He squirmed into the leotard, and arranged his breasts and buttocks. It felt snug and sleek. Finally, he pulled on the little shorts, and felt his slick butt. He was glad that the crop top concealed his nipples, which, when erect as they often were, poked through even with the bra and snug fitting leotard. He walked out of the cubicle, and looked in the full length mirror. He was impressed with his appearance. "Jay won't be able to take his eyes off me," he thought, and then realized the impact of what he was thinking. "Am I turning gay?" he worried. "What is considered homosexual for me?" The sales lady returned, interrupting his thoughts. "How do you like it?" she asked. "I think it's perfect," Joe said truthfully. "Well, you certainly have the shape for it," said the woman, walking to the counter. "Yea, that's the problem," thought Joe. "Did you want the underwear?" she asked, holding up a sport bra. "Yea, I guess I'd better," Joe said, considering. He figured he better get everything she recommended, since this was his only chance, before the "dress rehearsal." "White?" the woman asked. "Colors again," thought Joe, saying, "Yes, I think white would be fine, don't you?" "What's your size?" she returned. "I need a 34B, and my hips about 34 also," Joe replied. "Yes, that's right," said the woman, with a slight trace of envy in her voice. Joe continued to look around the shop as he was talking. He decided he better get one of these more feminine looking gym bags to carry this stuff in. He decided on a white and blue bag, which matched what he had on. He also took a little white terry cloth headband, and at the suggestion of the sales woman, some blue leg warmers. "Do you have shoes and socks?" the woman asked. "I have a new pair of Reeboks," he replied. He was about to say he had everything when he saw a little terry cloth romper thing, which looked like something women might wear in the locker room. He added it to his stack of clothes. "I believe this will be all," he said. After he put the pantyhose, skirt and blouse back on, he went back to the counter. He took his American Express card from his purse and gave it to the woman. She rang up the sale and he signed the bill. He was walking down the hallway in the mall, when in a shop window, he saw a blue jumpsuit. "That's just what I need," he thought. "It looks like something a woman could wear most places, with low shoes, even Reeboks." The loose fitting top would not emphasize his shape, and he would not have to be so careful about how he walked and sat. It would also make getting into his RX-7 a piece of cake. He entered the store. A young girl of about nineteen came up to him. "Can I help you?" she asked. "Yes, I'd like to buy a jumpsuit like the one in your window," he replied. "What size and color would you like?" she asked. "I guess I'd be a seven or eight, make it eight," Joe answered, "and do you have it in royal blue?" He thought he looked good in blue. The girl went to the racks, and selected the size and color he needed. She asked, "Would you like to try it on?" He held it up to himself. It looked the right length, and it was loose fitting enough to probably fit with no problem. He said, "If it doesn't fit, can I bring it back?" "Of course," the girl said. "If you don't like it for any reason, just bring it in. I can give you an exchange or a full refund." He did not want to undress again, and was happy to take the jumpsuit without that hassle. "I'll take it." he said. He took his packages out to his car. As he was driving through the parking lot near the mall entrance, he saw a drug store. He figured he probably should get some girl things like deodorant, and maybe body powder. He was not sure why he needed the powder, but he knew that Linda always had it when she showered. He stopped and went in. He walked down the aisles, looking for items a person who had a body like a woman's, might need. He got some Secret deodorant, and looked with a new interest at things like Massengill douche, feminine hygiene sprays and powders. He thought he had read somewhere that a healthy woman did not need things like that. Anyway, he thought he smelled pretty good in that area. He looked at feminine napkins and tampons. Again he thought about his genitalia, and realized that he might actually start to have menstrual periods. He could not accept that. "What choice do I have?" he considered. He looked at the little thin pads called panty liners, and thought maybe he should take a box of those. "Just in case," he thought. He did not trust his new parts, but he was learning to be ready for anything. "Who knows?" he thought. "This morning I find my cock is missing. Tomorrow morning I might be on the rag. What's a guy to do?" He took a box of Lightdays panty liners, deodorant, and Shower to Shower body powder, to the counter. He paid for the items, and drove home. He had a racquetball game to get ready for.