Transvestia

I took the cue from him and started to mingle among the bemused townsfolk. "What's it all about?" one after the other asked. "It's a revolution! Buy a ticket and find out," was the pat answer. "Are you really a lady?" a small boy asked. Before I could answer him, Harry was at my side and was herding me in the direction of the taxicab stand at the corner. "We're on television in ten minutes,' he said breath- lessly as we bounced into the seat of the cab.

"

At the local television station, the reaction was the same. Larry Michaels, the popular host of an afternoon variety show, had received the same taunting phone call from Harry and was standing by prepared for anything except what came through

the studio door as he went on the air. Here the reaction was the same as the crowd on the street: silent disbelief. This gave us the perfect opport- unity to be coy as before and get our message across without fully explaining our costumes or giving away the secret of the show. Since we were both quite well known in the town, the reaction was in- stant and as we left, the switchboard operator was feebly attempting to explain the situation. "Buy a ticket and find out," Harry called as we dashed into the waiting taxicab.

"Now back to work," he grinned as we sped off toward my office. "This will be the greatest cam- paign this town has ever seen. And it's only begin- ning. Wait till the other fellows get the 'Treat- ment!'"'

I was suddenly weary. "A whole month of THIS?" I asked, sliding lower in the seat.

Harry looked at my knees where the skirt had ridden up when I slumped. "Please. Let's remember our modesty," he grinned as I tugged it back in place.

Facing my secretary for the first time was a chore

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