Transvestia

thank heaven, this was a 38B.

The good woman seemed to be as relieved as Gina and, in her eagerness to appear helpful topped it off by asking, "Would you. like to try it on? The fitting room is over there."

This drew another gasp from Gina who hardly managed to answer, "Thank you, no, I have one already at home," and clasping her purchase, off she went toward the checkout stand at the door.

—

There were some mirrors along the aisles. So, she stopped in order to put her sunglasses on again and to have a quick critical look at herself. Well, nothing but a fairly nice looking lady in capris and blouse looked back at her, and everything seemed to be O.K. That early in the morning there was not yet much business at the checkout desk, so, she put the bra down and started to open her purse for the necessary cash. While doing so she happened to glance at the nearby store entrance - and her heart almost stopped for in came a very well known couple, friends and members of our parish. Well, the entrance way was far on the other side, so what. But, oh no the good old lady apparently was determined to do it the hard way and steered straight through the exit toward and through the checkout counter. Here, instead of passing behind Gina, she had to squeeze herself right through forcing Gina to step aside and let her go by. Then she sailed into the store followed by her husband. Gina had tried to turn her back to her, and the lady passed her without recognizing her. But the little husband, as men do, could not help letting his eyes glance up and down, quickly appraising what he saw. That typical little action was all Gina needed to regain her composure as she was tickled to death at not being recognized at such close quarters, but taken for what she wanted to be: just another good looking woman. Her fingers trembled a little while she finished her business with the cashier. Then, turning to leave the store, she had a last glance at the couple nearby and, dear me, there they were with the little man receiving quite a tongue lashing for letting his eyes go astray. Such is life.

Sometimes, I feel quite fortunate being a TV past his prime. It has occurred to me that now, with my hair turned white and, therefore, all shades of a beard disappearing, it is much more easier for me to let my face pass as that of an elderly woman. They too