RANSVESTIA

thought the receptionist had been pulling her leg. I guess every one of us would have felt a sudden thrill of pure pleasure at that and I know I did. I tried to answer her questions as clearly as I could. She told me she was curious about my dressing and I tried, and I think I succeeded, in shining a bit of light on a very dim subject. After about a half hour she had man- aged to get about 35 rollers into my hair. In personal experiments to see if I could, I managed to get in about 20 rollers by myself but then I am no professional. Next I went to the dryer. There were some magazines at hand and so I started to look at them. About 45 minutes passed and the dryer shut off. I was a bit warm but since Bill, and hence Jeanette also, can concentrate on just about anything anywhere I hadn't really noticed the passage of time. Since my hair holds a lot of water I knew it wouldn't be dry yet and I was right, so back under I went for another half hour.

When the dryer finally shut off again it was back to the chair to have my hair combed out. With the rollers out I looked more like a brown haired curly top than anything and I was sure that I would end up having to resume my wig once I left the shop. As I said, my hair is only moderately long, average length about 7 inches. All the curl ate into the length very badly I thought. As she was combing my hair, back combing that is, and quite tightly at that, the operator asked if the dryer and the pull of the combing didn't bother me. In truth I was enjoying every minute of it and told her so. She said that this was the part of having her own hair done which bothered her the most, the back combing. I guess that for a female this could get to be a bore and perhaps for an FP also if one was exposed to it often enough.

Back combing completed, she began to comb and brush the hair into something more becoming than early Phyllis Diller.

When she was finished brushing, large amounts of hair spray filled what air I could force into my lungs, although to be frank that wasn't much as the reflection in the mirror told me I wouldn't need my wig again that day. She had managed a pretty good pagette with the hair above my forehead brushed into an upsweeping fore curl that came back down right next to my right eye. The net effect was both feminine and attractive and I was extremely happy. I paid her and gave her a generous tip for her efforts. I promised her that I would try and let the shorter hairs grow out if at all possible so that it would be easier to work with next time. As I was leaving I asked her if she would mind doing my hair again sometime. Her answer really warmed my heart. She said, "Of course, why not?" I took one of her business cards and left. As I walked out of the beauty shop I

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