The other day, B/R writer Lisa Horne did an article about a female in a male locker room, and I felt her pain. I mean, can you imagine a woman trying to ask questions in a locker room filled with a lot of guys? Simply put, a woman will probably not be able to get the interviews that a male reporter would.
However, I realized that it's tough on guys, too. I mean, we always talk about how a woman can get into a guy's locker room. But, we leave out the guys getting into the girl's locker room.
So, I decided to tell you my chilling experience of trying to get into a female locker room for an interview. It was tough, but remember, I only did it for the story.
The other day, I was trying to get into the ladies' locker room to interview a female competitor. She will remain nameless, because if she knew it was me, I could be in serious trouble.
It was halftime when I went to do the interview. As I was going in, people stopped me saying that I couldn't go in. I said, "Why?..Girls can go into the guys' locker room all the time." They told me it was different, and unless you suddenly became a girl, I was not getting in.
That made me angry but it also made me wonder. Could I become a girl within an hour? Well, I knew the surgeries were painful, took days to get into, and cost too much money. Plus, my insurance does not cover sex-change operations.
So, I had to figure out a way. I went to a friend of mine who was a girl. Ironically, she had a party dress to change into after the game later that night.
Why she was going to change was beyond me, but that was another story for another time. Anyway, I had to figure out a way to get the dress without her knowing and get it back to her before she left.
So, I asked her if she had any hand sanitizer. She said she did but it was in her car. So I asked her if I could use her keys to get in and get the hand sanitizer. I told her I would bring it back along with the keys, after I had gone to the concession stand.
She said it was cool, so I went to the car. There was the dress. I grabbed it and thought to myself, "Hum, I might be even more convincing if I use makeup." So, I did. Realizing that my hair was already sort of long, I felt I only needed to change the style a little to complete my "female transformation."
I went to the restroom in the area with the dress, makeup, and the keys to my friend's car. I changed into the dress and used the mirror to apply the makeup.
Luckily, no guys came in during all of this; I must have been lucky, I guess. And although I will not tell you how freakin' hard it is to get your makeup on right, I'll simply say that I had trouble.
The eye liner was the hardest part, but, anyway, I was off. I arrived with about two minutes left in the game. The female player whom I planning to interview was playing well—her team was ahead by about eight points.
I realized that I had just enough time to get over to the locker room by the end of the game. At this point, all that I was focusing on was getting there and my makeup not running.
I had the keys to my friend's car in my underwear because I had nowhere else to put them. Apparently, dresses do not have pockets—at least not this one. While running to the locker room, I was in pain!
Suddenly, I realized that I still had my shoes (I must have put them on by mistake) on. Using quick thinking, I dropped them off behind a trash can.
I was barefoot, but I made it over to the locker room just in time. The girls were already in, and no one stopped me this time. I was home free and so excited. I was going to finally talk to this female superstar.
I looked and looked around for her. I thought maybe I could get a peek or two while I was there. But, to my shock, all of them had already taken a shower and many of them were already dressed when I arrived.
So nothing great, I guess. I still couldn't find the female superstar I was going to interview. I kept looking and looking. Finally, I found her. She was dressed also and ready to leave.
I went to ask her the questions that I had prepared. But then, suddenly, as I reached for my questions, I realized I left them in my pants which were in the bathroom across the building.
I couldn't interview her. I know you all feel my pain, right? Well, maybe not. So, there I was—a guy in a girl's locker room—dressed as a female reporter in a party dress and makeup.
I looked like the female joker, if that's possible! Somehow, I changed and returned my friend's dress and things to her car and grabbed the sanitizer. Upon returning to her house, I gave her the keys and sanitizer.
She looked at me and told me that my eyeliner was smeared.
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