This is a true story. Some names have been changed to protect the innocent..

In August of 1991: I gave up drinking alcohol. Not just when driving, all the time. Drinking in drag is even more dangerous. I couldn't seem to control my drinking., so I just plain quit. Let me tell you what happened..

   My wife and 2 children left me alone one weekend to visit her family out of state for 4 days. All that time to dress! I was in seventh heaven. I was into my second 6-pack of beer when they left early in the afternoon. My wife told me to slow down my drinking. She knew I would dress while she was gone, but warned me not to go anywhere drunk. I promised her I wouldn't. I just laid around the house and drank more beer. At about 6pm I got the urge to dress, since I had the whole house to myself, I just went about doing it. I showered, shaved and powdered. I pulled on my dancers belt to conceal my manhood, and then a waist cincher in white (to help control the expanding beer gut) and then my tan tights (my wife won't let me shave my legs). I chose black french cut silky pantyhose which got me quite excited when I pulled them up my now smooth legs. They hugged and compressed me so deliciously. I then placed my white underwire bra around my waist. I fastened it and spun it around to face the proper way. I lifted the straps up and over my shoulders and I placed the breast forms I made (with knee-hi's and birdseed) into the cups. I then placed the sleeveless white mock neck body suit on, snapping the crotch with some difficulty (in coordination, due to a 12- pack by this time), telling myself it will be harder with false nails! I stepped in to the black denim mini-skirt and pulled it up over my hips and fastened the belt tightly around my waist. I put my feet into my 3" black leather pumps and began the make up. Pan-Stik, loose powder, blue eye shadow, false eye lashes, black eyeliner. Everything looking good so far. I put a 24" gold chain around my neck and placed my favorite old brown wig with bangs on my head and adjusted it, gently brushing it to a smooth look with turned-in ends at the shoulders. Last, I fitted a pair of gold clip-on hoop earrings to my ear lobes and a gold bracelet on my right wrist. I applied Shalimar perfume lavishly, then red Lee Press-on nails, and finished with red lipstick to match the nails. (I love the lip prints made with lipstick on my beer cans and bottles). Now I was all dressed up and no where to go.

   I sat back and watched TV, and drank some more beer, I don't remember exactly how much. I put on a black blazer and pulled out the camera, and took about 5 pictures. I then pulled out some old pictures of me in drag and sorted through them. My wife called about 7:30 pm from her parent's place to see how I was doing. As I answered her questions, I was slurring my words. My wife caught on immediately and told me not to go out anywhere. I said OK and thought to myself, "I'll do anything I want". When we hung up, I decided to go out to JoJo's Club in Detroit, what the hell!. I went in my work van, which I had just installed a hitch and trailer wiring. When I got there the place was pretty empty. No other T.V.'s in the place. I had a couple of beers there and then left to see what was happening at the lesbian bar called Splishes just down the street. I had been there before when the place was packed. Nobody paid much attention to us TV's then. Tonite, however, it was empty. I felt under close scrutiny there, so I had one beer and left. Not apparently drunk enough, I headed back west to a small gay bar called Ed's. I went in and was greeted by the first male I saw. he asked me to sit with him and he bought me a drink. We talked and drank until around until 2 a.m., and I hobbled to my truck (by this time 3'' heels seemed like 6") with the help of the parking lot guard.

    I drove north on the Southfield freeway, maintaining the speed limit. Just as I approached 8 Mile road (the dividing line between Detroit and the suburbs),  I saw the red beacon of a State Police car behind me. I slowed down, thinking he wanted to go by me. He slowed, and signaled me with his spot light and we both pulled to the shoulder. I stopped the truck and began searching for my registration and proof of insurance, which I had hidden above my visor in my male wallet. My male drivers license was in my Femme wallet in my purse. Two Officers approached from behind, one on each side of the truck. The man on my side asked if I knew why I had been stopped. I slurred `no' to him, and asked "was I weaving or speeding?" while the other officer looked in the truck through the side windows of the truck.. He said no, but they noticed my left taillight was out. He then mentioned to his partner that I was a man! When I couldn't find my registration or proof of insurance, he had me get out of the truck. As I did, the cop got a good look at my long legs and thighs. I then noticed he was a black man about 6'3", and his partner was a white female, with short blonde hair and about 5'6" tall. The male officer had me perform some standard sobriety tests next to my van, like walking the line one foot in front of the other. I couldn't balance on the 3" heels, and twisted my right ankle, breaking the side of the right shoe at the heel, ruining it. I took off both shoes and then did OK . He asked me to say the alphabet backwards. I tried, and told him I couldn't say it backwards even when I was straight, although I did say it forwards ok, just a little slurred. He told me I was being arrested for suspicion of drunk driving. I was cuffed, and placed in the back seat of their cruiser. He apprised me of my rights in Michigan regarding taking of a breathalyzer test. I took the test with their portable unit. He told me I registered .22%, over twice the legal limit (of .10%). They began to ask the usual questions about residence, driving history, etc. while waiting for the wrecker. She asked why I was dressed as a woman, and, did I enjoy it. I lied when I told her I was an occasional performer at drag bars in Detroit, and I told her the truth when I said that I did enjoy it. She asked if my family or friends knew about this, and I told her the truth there, too. I asked where I was going to be taken, worried it would be the Wayne County Jail. That is where most of the worst people were taken in Detroit, and not a safe place for a male in drag. She informed me I would be taken to Oakland County Jail in Southfield, since we were stopped in that county. I breathed a sigh of relief, and thanked them profusely for waiting until we were north of the county border to stop me. After the wrecker left, we headed to the Jail. I had been through the jail before this, in the course of my employment. I saw a completely different side of it as a felon, though. When we got upstairs to the jail, I was taken to a small room and had to take another breathalyzer test. I still blew a .22%, after an hours time, too. He came in with a Polaroid camera and took two pictures of me. I was then walked past the glass cells to another room and was finger printed, all the while the male and female jail keepers watched me with great interest. The male jail keeper gave me a 2 piece blue jail uniform and a paper bag and told to strip, placing my femme clothing into the bag. I took EVERYTHING off, including the wig and panties. I knew I would be put in the men's holding cell, and didn't want any unwanted attention from the other inmate there. After I put the sandals on my feet, the matron came over with a bottle of hand cream, and asked me if I wished to remove my makeup before placement in the men's cell. I thanked her for her concern, and took the bottle and paper towels offered. After I had removed all the makeup, the male arresting officer took two more pictures of me (through all the court proceedings, no mention was made of the way I had been dressed, so I must assume the second set of pictures were attached to the arrest record, and the first were kept for personal use!). The matron asked me if I had any other clothes to wear when I was released, and I told her no. she then recommended that whomever comes to pick me up after I made bail, bring some clothes for me to wear. The male jailer told me to use the collect phone in the cell to make bail and clothing arrangements. I was then placed in the holding cell with another man, who was drunk and apparently out for the count. I went to the phone and called the only person I could think of to help me, since my wife was out of state (and would leave me there, probably). That was my youngest brother, Donnie.

   Donnie and I were 12 years apart, but shared some common secrets. No one else in the family knew I still dressed up ( my sister and mother both caught me dressed when I was much, much younger). They thought I gave up dressing when I grew older, but that is another story. I apologized for waking him, but told him I was in serious trouble, and my wife was out of town. I told him of the drunk driving arrest and where I was. I gave him my case number and other facts needed to bail me out, and also to bring some of my clothes. He asked what happened to the clothes I wore when I was arrested. I just told him to pick up my keys from the front desk of the police station and pick up some shorts, sandals and a tee shirt and undershorts. He was also to take the bag of clothes that were with the keys and put it in my workshop area in the basement, and to relock the door. I told him I would explain when he picked me up Monday afternoon. He paused, and told me he would do it. I thanked him and told him I would pay him back for the bail, and any other lost wages or anything else. We hung up, and I found a seat in a corner and proceeded to try and go to sleep. I was beginning to feel sick and the spins started, and I must of fallen asleep.

  When I awoke about 3 hours later, there were at least 6 other men in our cell, and 3 women in the other cell. The fellow I thought was passed out when I had come in was telling the other inmates that I had come in wearing female clothes, giving great detail. I began to worry when one particularly big black dude looked me in the eyes from 2 feet away, and asked if I was gay. I told him no, I just liked the feel of the clothes, and was married to a woman and had 2 kids. He called me a fag, saying wearing womens' clothes on a man was queer. Rather than protest, I made my way to an unoccupied space against the glass wall of the cell, where the guards could see me easily. They fed us all at about 7am. All I could stomach was cold cereal and milk. I did have some coffee, but I began to feel sick when I drank it, so I threw it out. At about 8am, the jail began to fill up with prisoners from the north jail in Pontiac, who were going to arraignments here in Southfield. As the other prisoners were sent in our cell, the big black man began to tell each one I was a fairy and wore women's clothing! As a crowd began to form around me, the jailer stood next to me outside the cell, with his baton in hand. This seemed to discourage them from taking any action towards me. The day shift of guards came in and 3 Sheriff's Deputies with them. We were checked against a list and then herded into an elevator, half the group at a time. I went with the second group, which was smaller, and without most of the bad asses. When we were reassembled outside the elevator at the end of a long tunnel in an enclosed lobby. We were manacled together at the waist with about 2 feet of chain between each in line. The door unlocked and we walked in single file order through the tunnel to a stairway at the far end. This led us to a holding area, and we were separated into several groups of two or three, and had us wait for each individual arraignment. I was in with a wife beater (drunk), and a auto thief. My turn came after about 1 1/2 hours of waiting. I was put in front of the judge, a woman with a bad attitude. She read me my charges and asked if I had council, and told her I would defend myself. The judge told me to get council, either appointed or of my choice. She set my bail and another court date. I was put back in the general holding area with about 5 others. Twenty minutes later, a guard took the five of us back through the tunnel to the jail, not chained together. We arrived in time for lunch, oh joy! The fare was American cheese on white bread, and milk. Most of the Pontiac prisoners had been taken away, leaving about 8 of us. They slowly left, one by one as they got bailed out. My turn came about 3:30 pm, when I was given a stack of clothes and taken the booking room and told to change, leaving the prison "blues" and sandals in a metal can in the room. After changing, and about 30 minutes of paper work, I was led by a guard down to the police desk, There, brother Donnie was waiting, and signed a release waiver. Shortly we were on our way.

  In the car, he asked what had happened, and why were there women's clothes in the bag he took home. I broke down and cried, sobbing the story of the arrest and jailing, but leaving the dressing part out. I also told him I probably would give up my "hobby" he had noticed in the bag. He gave me a quizzical look, and then a smile. I think he understood and didn't press the issue. We became a lot closer that day. After we got to my house, I cleaned it up a bit, and offered him a beer. I told him I wasn't having any, but he could. He accepted and I got a pop. I tracked down where my van was impounded and we went to the 24 hour teller to get money to reimburse Donnie and pay for the tow to get my truck out of hock. After securing my truck's release, Donnie left and I returned home to call my wife and tell her. When I got home though, I went to sleep instead. The phone woke me at about 8pm. It was my wife. I told her I had something to discuss with her, but it would wait until she came home Wednesday. She asked what was wrong, and I told her it would wait. She said she would come right home. So I told her I had been arrested for DUIL and was out and back to work. There wasn't anything she could do about it now. She was angry, but agreed, and we hung up.

  I went to work Tuesday and Wednesday, and got home after she did Wednesday. She had sent the kids to the park to play so we could be alone. I confessed to her all the details, or most of them anyway. She was angry, but mostly because I hadn't heeded her warning, nor called her when it happened. I explained that there was nothing she could have done to help me, and it would have ruined her stay with her father. There was a lot of crying by both of us, and some yelling too. I vowed to quit drinking, which I had ( over 8 years sober). She supported me through all of the legal proceedings and costs. This was my first (and LAST) arrest for anything, including DUI. The final judgment pronounced me guilty of DWI (Driving While Impaired), and 1 year probation, 6 months suspended license, and one year of AA meetings, twice a week. The court costs including probation were in excess of $600, lawyer fees of $650, and higher insurance costs (400% surcharge on me). I was granted a restricted license for work, but the judge was adamant about the hours. I had specified 24 hours, 7 days a week, since I am in the service industry and am on call. She refused, saying that wasn't restricted at all. I was told to pick a day my employer could do without me. I said OK, Sunday then. I was granted the permit for 7am to 7pm or while working , Monday through Saturday, and also to AA meetings twice (or more) a week. I accepted, and was taken to the court clerk to pay some of the fine. Then I had to go to the probation department, do some paperwork, and schedule my first appointment. Then drove with the paperwork to the Secretary of State's office for my restricted license. Then I was FREE!

  The next few months went on with out much incident. I didn't drink, started AA in December, and I drove the company truck if I had to go anywhere by myself. My wife drove anytime we were together. I was stopped for speeding one night in May, after leaving an AA meeting and dropping another member off on my way home (I saw a car come up fast behind my nearly stopped van in the roadway. I sped off to keep from being tail-ended, and slowed down when I noticed my speed.). He put the beacons on just after I turned west to go home. I explained my situation with the court, the meeting I had just left, and where I was going to with him. He asked if I have been drinking, and I told him not since the arrest last August. He let me go, saying it was because of trying to help myself and the AA meetings. That was the last traffic stop I have been involved with. Unfortunately, I was unable to give up my dressing "hobby" as I told Donnie I would. I didn't go out to the bars, since I was forbidden to do so as a condition of probation. (By the way, the probation officer was a woman about 40, unmarried, almost handsome with her makeup, and wore sexy clothes to work. Way too sexy for that kind of work. I had a hard time keeping my thoughts off her outfits.). I did attend three Uptown Girls group meetings at an east side clothing boutique that caters to TV's and CD'ers. Twice I dressed there, undressed there once, dressed at a work location near the meeting site (that was unmanned after 5pm) once. And I drove home twice from the meetings fully dressed. All three times I drove the marked company truck to cover my license requirements. I was very careful not to get stopped, as I doubt I could have explained that!

 After a year, I was able to get a regular license, and stopped going to the AA meetings. I started going out again to the bars, once in a while at first. Now I drink Non-alcoholic beer when I do go out. I haven't had any problems since those days. By the way, the tail light was out because I had inadvertently broke the wire while installing the hitch and wiring harness. I never checked to see if it worked! I have been careful to keep all of this from the rest of the family. Only my wife, and two brothers know what happened. Donnie died of heart trouble in 1994, taking the secret with him, and my other brother lives out of state. My sons know of my DUI, but withiut the crossdressing part. Considering all the costs, hassles and problems it caused, I don't recommend drinking when you are the only person driving. Someone may die for nothing. I know of many TV's that go to the bars and get pretty trashed. This fate awaits them, too, only they may not be so lucky as to where they spend the night! Have someone who hasn't been drinking drive them home, too.

Note: Since my retirement in 1999, I have gone back to drinking, but with some restrictions. I never drink without having something to eat, and I NEVER drink to excess. If I do drink, someone always drives me home.
When going out dressed, I normally don't drink anything except Non-alcoholic beer.

© Lisa Dee 1997, 2009  All rights Reserved

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