RANSVESTIA

"Golly no, Doctor," said Cass. "I'm really worried. I'm afraid Daddy needs help. He reacts so strangely . . . gets so uptight about my clothes. I used to think it was just the bills from the department store and like that but now I'm not so sure there's something deeper troubling him. It seems silly I know, but you must try to understand him.”

―

"Well now . . . what I mean is that . . . it's not . . . he's worried about you being a transvestite. Are you worried about being a transvestite?"

no

—

"Why do you use that word Doctor — its use can hardly be justified nowadays with unisex clothes and such. But to answer your question, I'm not worried at all. I would be worried if I had to go around in men's clothes I look... weird. Anyone who saw me that way would freak out! Golly Doc, what do I look like to you . . . like. . . if you didn't know tell the truth?”

―

"Well... you appear to be a girl."

"Good grief! Go on... what kind of girl?”

"Er, well . . . a very lovely, young attractive girl."

“Oh, wow

do I look like a man at all?”

"No."

"Then stop asking nutty questions!"

"All right...!" Dr. Patewaner snapped. He paused and looked at the ceiling, his left foot pounding deeply into the carpet. "Tell me about your early years what do you remember most vividly?"

“Well . . . let's see

•

•

I was small a mere child in fact.” Cass went on: "Doctor Patewaner, why did you never marry?"

"Never mind that

go on about your

childhood."

"I went to school. Perhaps you never married because you have some sub... I mean unconscious deep-seated feeling of insecurity . . . infer- iority. being short and like that. Did you ever give that any thought?"

•

"Did you like school?" Dr. Patewaner tried to keep the conversation

on course.

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