Miss Trans Contest

Last Saturday night I went to a club called "Le Glam" near Namur, about 55 km or 30 miles away from home. I had been there about a month ago "en femme" as well, because entry was free then (drinks weren't). The club that day was inviting members from a website that brings people together, and I was one of them. At the reception, you leave your car keys or remote control and receive a metal lock for a locker in a separate room. You have direct access to the club door after pressing a buzzer. The main area consists of a long sofa along the walls, a few high tables with bar stools in the middle, and the bar across from the entrance. There is also a small shop selling mainly lingerie. Adjacent, accessible via a staircase of about eight steps, is the dance floor. The DJ plays music from a DJ booth along that staircase. It is very dark in there, with a touch of UV light, making my teeth look whiter than they actually are. The club is mainly frequented by couples and single men, all of whom are looking for a nice conversation, a one-night stand, or simply want to spend an evening with friends. Those seeking intimate contact can go to another room on the second floor. I have never been there.

I decided to go to the club this time because it was organizing a Miss Trans night. Since the place is very trans-friendly and I am always up for a bit of competition, I decided to try my luck. I arrived quite early, at 8:00 PM, and was able to park almost right in front of the entrance. This time I had to pay 15 euros for entry (at the current exchange rate, that is about 17 dollars). Keep in mind that single men pay*****euros (115 dollars)! Fortunately, there are also benefits to being a "woman." I can buy a lot of cosmetics with the price difference. I have no idea what couples pay. To my surprise, the drinks were included in the price this time, so I hoped all the singles were very thirsty. I went straight to the dressing room to store my coat and a bag containing my red thigh-high boots—which I would wear for the match—and some other items. I was wearing my short red ankle boots, because they were a bit more comfortable, especially while dancing. The bartender poured me a glass of white wine into a small white plastic cup, and I took a seat at an empty table on a bar stool.

After about half an hour, more and more people started coming in, and a man asked if he could sit next to me. He introduced himself as a taxi driver with Italian roots, and I tested his knowledge by asking: "Sei sposato? Hai figli?" Are you married? Do you have children? Not that I was planning to bear his future babies or was really interested in his marital status, but they were a few standard questions I remembered from an Italian course I had taken once. He said that he was divorced and that he was a heavy smoker, so he left his table a few times to smoke outside. While he was outside, another cross-dresser came in whom I remembered from the last time.  She is very tall, about 1m90cm or 6 feet 3 inches, whereas I am 5 feet 8 inches (1m73cm). Fortunately, the bar stool was quite high, so I didn't get a stiff neck while talking to her while she was standing next to the table. She was also participating in the competition. It turned out that she had been taking hormones for a while but was disappointed because her breasts hadn't developed. Her natural hair had grown long and curly, so that was a positive effect of the treatment. While I was talking to her the whole time, the taxi driver drove to another spot in the club. I had made it clear that ****** isn't attracted to men, although I do enjoy a good conversation with any person.

Meanwhile, a transgender friend of the lady with curly hair also came in, introduced herself to me, and we all danced until half past eleven, when the competition started. I had no idea what to expect and there were six other participants. I told myself that I would just watch the first participant, see what she did, and then copy her. And who was the first contestant to be called? Me, of course, gosh. Luckily, my French is good enough to understand the instructions, but still... There I stood, at the top of the stairs to the dance floor, in my thigh-high boots that I had swapped for in the locker room just a few minutes earlier.

Mission 1: walk down the stairs, onto the dance floor, move my body, and walk back up. Piece of cake, you’d think. And it is, unless you stumble right on the very last step, like I did. I blame the darkness, but I just hadn't judged that final step correctly. As a result, ****** launched herself, just like Artemis II shooting to the moon, towards a dance pole in the middle of the dance floor, my life saver, as I grabbed it firmly. That is how I avoided what would otherwise have been the most embarrassing introduction on the catwalk ever. As elegantly as possible, to save the day,  I turned a few rounds around the rotating pole and walked back up the stairs. Phew! 

Mission 2: Walk back to the dance floor and dance to the music. Well, now we were getting somewhere. Dancing is totally my thing. This time I didn't launch myself like a rocket, but stepped down elegantly and tried to move like Madonna does on the dance floor, even though the music wasn't hers. Actually, I don't know which song it was, but the beat was okay. Everyone reacted very enthusiastically.

Mission 3: the final mission, introducing myself via a microphone. I hoped I would be judged on my looks and not on my intelligence, let alone on the part of my brain responsible for speaking French as if I were one of the locals. So I basically told my potential fans that I was ******, originally from Antwerp, but living for a few years now in a small village about a 45-minute drive from the dance floor, happy to be able to participate in a club with a family atmosphere. Fortunately, I'm not the stress type, so I stayed reasonably calm and smiling.

It must be said that the jury consisted of 3 people from the audience. Most of the visitors were regulars, and most people formed groups, almost like small families in a club where everyone knew each other. I was truly an outsider, not a member of the family (yet?). Still, I received a lot of cheers and compliments after I had finished my speech.

Now it was the other participants' turn to put on their show. Two of them were extremely shy. Then it was my friend with curly hair's turn. She had put on a fluorescent yellow bikini for the occasion, but there was still no sign of breasts. She did well, but she is not a great dancer. Two other participants followed, and they seemed to be real regulars; everyone cheered them on, and they put on a good show. I didn't find their presence or show any better than mine, nor their appearance, but I could appreciate their act. After a few minutes, the last participant decided to take off all her clothes and stood naked in front of everyone, which turned the whole thing into a cheap striptease, if you ask me.

Half an hour later, the results were announced. Third place went to the stripper, and second and first place to the two regulars. The winner received free entry to the club for a year, while the others received flowers. I was a bit disappointed, and my concern that the jury might be somewhat biased turned out to be partly justified. I received reactions from a few couples who were surprised that I wasn't in the top 3. One lady said: "I'm angry that you didn't come in first or second!" I think she might have been the rebellious outsider of the family.

I went to the event to have fun, and I really did. I got home around 3 a.m. because I had been dancing all night after the competition. I don't plan on going to this club every week, so it's fine that I didn't win the grand prize. In a way, every contestant is a brave winner, because it is not easy to perform such an act in front of an audience. I had my moment in the spotlight, especially with the jump I made towards the dance pole during my entrance. Next time I'll bring a flashlight so I can see all the steps clearly. LOL

PS Google gemini's AI helped me create the picture to add me in a club. It is forbidden to take pics there...