"And probably a very good one, just as you're a good dancer and cook; but I don't understand when you say that girl's voice is yours."

I took a deep breath and prepared for 'the blast'. "I am a female im- personator," I said, "I'll get your coat.'

""

"YOU'RE A WHAT?" she shrieked, "and forget about my coat!"

"I'm a female impersonator," I said quietly, and stood there while that soaked in.

"Really?" she asked. "Do you dress as a woman for a living?”

"Yes," I nodded to emphasize my statement, "I have for several years."

"But but you're a man, now," she exclaimed, frowning, "how can you be a girl part-time and a man part-time and not get all mixed up?” She was a very perplexed girl.

I was surprised at her line of questioning. She didn't seem to be angry just befuddled and curious.

"Would you like a drink,” I asked, "while I try to explain it to you?"

"Yes, I would," she replied, "but first, what was that 'coat' business all about?"

As I made a couple of high balls, I told her that most girls upon learn- ing that I was an impersonator, either left in a rage or ridiculed and insulted me to the point that I threw them out. So, I had learned to offer to get their coat as soon as I told them what I did for a living.

She took a big swallow of her drink, sat down, and said, “Jim, I'm shocked, true, but more, I'm burning up with curiosity. Please tell me all and I do mean 'all' about yourself."

I lit a cigarette, brought the bottle, ice and water to the coffee table, sat down and started talking. I believe the soft music in the background helped me, but neither of us noticed when the last record turned off. I spent the next two hours explaining to Judy how I discovered liking the feel of feminine clothing as a child. I had worn them as often I could without discovery — thinking I was some sort of a freak. In high School I had learned that I was a Transvestite and not a freak — but I still lived in

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