Susan On Stage (and my girly moment) 1985

Susan on Stage

In the fall of 1985, early in my senior year in high school, we were busily engaged in practice for our fall musical, for which I was the stage manager. Part of the musical required one of the female leads (a young woman I'll call Susan) to change outfits part way through.

Susan was one of the rich girls in school. Filthy rich. Her parents had bought her a sports car for her birthday. She was pretty, 15-year-old blonde, built, and a very talented singer and it was no shock to anyone that she had a lead part.

As the stage manager, I was aware of the various things that could derail a performance. Each play or musical has its own pitfalls. One of the potential issues of this show was that Susan had to hustle to get this wardrobe change done, or she would be late getting back out on stage. Routinely, this wardrobe change was not going well. She was moving pretty fast, but there’s no way she could get downstairs, where the drama room and changing booths were located, get changed, and get back up to the stage.

We tried a couple of different things, and finally, we just decided, with Susan’s full support, to locate the clothing she was supposed to change into at the back of the stage, behind the back curtain. This worked pretty well, actually. Finally, things were clicking, and just in time. The opening night was upon us.

There's a Naked Girl on Stage!

The first night of the performance, Susan exited the stage, and rushed to the back, behind the curtain. She got changed, and got back to her mark, just in the nick of time. But hey, it worked.

The second night, as time came for Susan to change, I was at the right rear corner of the stage, watching the props being readied, and also to make sure Susan didn’t have any issues. She exited the main stage and turned right past me, actually brushing me. Moving away from me, she lifted the hem of her dress up a bit as she walked so she wouldn’t trip. The clothing she was to change into were a tight pair of denim capris, a pair of red mary janes, and a white top with a low neckline.

As Susan approached her changing area, she yanked her dress over her head and tossed it aside, proceeding the last 10 feet or so wearing only a red thong, and a pair of black heels. Standing profile to me, she kicked off the heels, picked up the capri pants, and began slipping them on. Quickly, the pants were in place, the belt buckled. Still topless, she bent to grab her shirt, her breasts bouncing and swinging, and then she straightened back up. Turning topless toward me, she lifted her arms, and shrugged the top over her head, and adjusted it into place. The red Mary Janes were slipped on, a quick pass of the brush through her hair, and she was heading for her mark. Walking past me, she locked gazes with me and gave me a gigantic smile. She was at her mark with almost 20 seconds to spare.

My"Girly" Moment

I had been given what was likely the best view any student had been given at that school, outside of other girls seeing her in the locker room. The funny thing is that I wasn’t really turned on. Sure, she was very attractive, and I'd seen her in nothing but a thong. Rather, I was thinking, while watching her, that she had an amazing body, and that I was jealous of her chest, butt, and legs. The way that girl fit a thong was unfair, to say the least!

When that last thought crossed my mind, I was instantly horrified. I can’t explain the feeling that sweeps over a person who is MTF (male to female) transgender but doesn’t yet understand that when they have that sort of thought. You know, “Wow, I’d love to have legs like that” or the like. When your brain plays that thought back, it's distressing, in a "What's wrong with me???" sort of way.

So that was the day in high school when Susan caused me to have a girl moment.