RANSVESTIA

I'm sure she thought my pencil-thin high heels and leather covered legs were a little out of place but there was no indication of suspicion that I was anything but an eccentric little old lady. I am only five feet five and wear size seven ladies shoes.

Back in my room and wanting to go for ice, I took off my high heel- ed pumps and zipped on a pair of black leather boots that had three- inch chunky heels and came above my knees. After the young lady's scrutiny I decided the chunky heels would not look so out of place. I passed several people on the way to the ice machine and there was an elderly man getting ice ahead of me who offered to fill my bucket. I was still wearing gloves and carrying my handbag. I nodded and smil- ed my thanks, not daring to speak lest my voice came out too low. On the way back to my room I was delighted to pass two other women wearing boots and although their heels were not as high as mine they made me feel less conspicuous wearing boots on this warm June after-

noon.

Back in my room I opened the curtains on the large picture win- dow that looked out on the lawn and different walks to the pool and the lobby and dining room. I made a drink and sat in heavenly relaxation watching the people come and go, oblivious to their curious glances in my direction. The afternoon flew by and though I didn't need to, I made several trips to the ice machine just for the excitement and pleasure of doing so.

Now, anticipating a waiter from room service, I changed back to my high heeled pumps and shiny black vinyl leg coverings, touched up my make-up and called room service. The operator said they were short of help and that I would have to pick up take-up service at the dining room. This, I didn't dare to do lest my voice give me away. I have lost the use of my higher voice which in the past allowed me to pass successfully. And those were the days when they would slap you in jail for wearing specially made high heeled shoes and not necessari- ly feminine looking shoes either. I know because it happened to me. The police didn't care that I wore women's silk underwear trimmed with lace and boned back-lace corsets which I have worn most of my life. They didn't show. But to wear anything that might be construed as feminine that showed, you were in trouble. But apparently times have changed.

I got in my car with a written take-out order for a sandwich at a diner but there was a sheriff's car parked there and I lost my nerve and

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