Transvestia

world had seen in my eyes the open admiration for these lovely things.

My courage left me and I fled. Their coarse com- ments ringing in my ears.

My heart was pounding and I was a wreck, so I ducked into a cocktail lounge to try and compose myself.

I had saved for so long for this shopping trip and now it was ruined. My nerve was gone, or was it? I ordered a stiff shot of Dutch courage and tossed it down,

I left the dimly lit lounge and walked down the stree again window shopping as I went.

Plucking up such courage as I had left, I pushed open the door of the largest ladies shop in town and stepped inside. I was assailed by many sensations. The soft rugs underfoot. The smell of cosmetics. The shape and form of femininity on every side.

Looking around I saw the lingerie department and I started toward it when it occurred to me, "my God, wha shall I say, and how shall I say it?" Before I could re- cover my whirling thoughts into some semblance of ordel the voice of a mature saleslady broke in, "may I be of assistance, Sir?" And, as if I were a detached observer, I heard the most feminine voice issue forth from my own body saying, "yes, you may. I'd like to select some lingerie". "Something in white antron with a generous lace trim".

•

"Is it a slip you are interested in?" I heard her say

"Yes", I replied, "but I would also want is as part of a complete ensemble".

There, I had said it! Another moment and I would have lost my nerve again. I steeled myself for the word of rejection, the command of dismissal that was sure to come as a result of my boldness. To my blissful relief came the words "right this way, Sir".

We went to the lingerie counter with all it's little

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