RANSVESTIA

The next morning, bright and early, I entered the door of Miss Childs' shop. An attractive, perfectly coiffed woman was seated behind the reception desk. She looked up as I entered and said, “Yes, can I help you?"

“Yes, Ma'am, I came in response to your ad. I'd like to enroll in the school."

"Well," she laughed, "I'm afraid that it's quite impossible, you seem to have wasted your time."

"Why not. It's a school isn't it? And I'm a veteran who needs training and I would like to be a hairdresser."

"Young man, I admire your ambition, but I would suggest that you try a large school that takes men. We have a small operation here and the policy, which has never been tested is to take only young woman."

“But . . . but you can't refuse me. I can't afford to move to a large city with that type of school, and after all women are always yelling about women's lib and how they are denied training and jobs because of their sex, but when a man wants to have equality too, it's a big no-no.”

She laughed again and said, “That's just it, my school is geared to wo- men and it is, as I told you, small. Who do you think the girls practice on? Each other! If you wanted equality with women, you'd certainly get it here. As a matter of fact in a week you'd look exactly like one!"

Suddenly a secret hidden memory of afternoons in my mother's closet stirred and I felt a tingle of pleasurable memory run through my body. Surprised by my expression which must have shown the momentary happiness, she was taken aback. After a moment she said,

"By the look on your face, that idea didn't really displease you. Is that what you really wanted, to be near women so you could learn to be one? Does your big tough veteran want to be a frilly female?"

I stood there shocked that my emotions had shown themselves that honestly on my face. I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

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