TRANSVESTIA

"Y-you hardly look like a female impersonator to me," Eddie recovered his composure.

The man known as Lola Levine spread his hands wide and shrugged, "You don't look much like a reporter to me," he rejoined.

Eddie relaxed. "Yes," he said. "I guess you're right. I'm afraid I've never actually interviewed a, er, a, well, someone like you."

The older man stood up and Eddie was able to see that his veined legs were clean-shaven. "Don't worry, kid," the chapped mouth smil- ed, revealing yellow-white teeth. "I won't seduce you." As Eddie shuddered, the older man flung back his head and roared with laughter. "Hell, relax, kid," he said. "Sit down while I get ready for my act." He took a bottle of pre-shave lotion from a drawer and spread the liquid liberally over his grey-white whiskers.

"You should be asking me what my real name is and how I got into this business," the yawns could hardly be contained. Eddie nodded dumbly and took pen and notebook from his pocket. "My parents christened me Hugo Balanchuk, but I lived with an aunt for a long time and my driving license says Hugh Graham, which was my aunt's married name." The electirc razor left a wide track revealing pink, pasty skin beneath the beard. "I got into vaudeville, doing comedy acts, in one of which I dressed as a woman. When vaudeville died, my partner moved on. I was a rotten comic by myself. The only laughs I got were for the female sketch I did. So impersonating became the sole act that I do."

Shaven, his face was that of a middle-aged store manager or bank clerk. "I, er, don't really know what to ask," Eddie mumbled. "I'm sup- posed to write three paragraphs about you and your act."

Hughie smiled. He headed to the small basin at the back of the room and picked up a toothbrush. "You can say that I'm appearing to SRO audiences at the svelte La Donna Club, wowing the clientele with fabulous gowns and first-rate mimicking of today's leading female stars." He gargled and spat into the bowl. "Do you want to see me make-up?"

Eddie hesitated. Why not, he thought. It was an angle he could add, the transformation of Hugh Graham into Lola Levine. He glanced at the older man who was preparing what appeared to be a white paste