RANSVESTIA

I longed for the river boat tour which include a live band, cocktails, dancing and dinner! One of the boats, the S.S. President is the world's largest side wheeler.

Since it was quite a hot afternoon, I wearily sat down on a log to enjoy the capricious breeze that had suddenly sprung up, I felt the tug of air as it lifted a corner of my mini. My feet were killing me! As I removed my sandals I discovered blisters on the bottom of both feet; also, to my dismay I noticed that my toes had burst through my hose! As I furtively pulled fiberfill cotton from my padded bra to patch my feet, a large chunk pulled loose to further my dismay. I suddenly discovered that I had gone from a 42-C to a 42-A. Nevertheless, I managed to make the necessary patches to my wounds and applied nail polisht o my hose to prevent further ruin. Since I didn't have any clear polish, it had to be red. To match my blisters.

After making repairs, I hastily smoothed my orange mini, adjusted my jacket and scarf and an exulted feeling came over me as I thought of my femme attire - black sling shoes with matching bag, pearl earrings with matching necklace, shell-pink panties with matching bra (42-A now) and slip. I had dire thoughts of my bra since by now it was slightly unbalanced. Nevertheless, it was still a beautiful world! As I trudged wearily toward the dock, Wanda approached me and I smugly asked her to take my picture. I chose another log to pose on since it would include more of the colorful background. I thanked her as we glanced at our watches and decided to limp back to the hotel. My aching feet! As I started forth, a lady who had been keenly observing the picture taking, suddenly gasped as she told me I had black creosote from the log on the back of my dress and all over the back of my legs. My pink slip and panties that had once been edged with pick lace were now edged with black creosote. What a revolting development! I collected my composure as well as one can in such a predicament and sallied forth again. Despite the ruined back side of my outfit and blackened legs, I posed to another picture in front of the steamboat and the Mississippi, care- fully hiding my back side. Afterward, I rode the outdoor glass elevator to the Top of the Mart which incidentally, has a restaurant overlooking the entire New Orleans area. It was breathtaking and I could glimpse the millions of crowding people on the street below as Mardi-Gras day drew closer. The street below was the widest street in the United States. There was scarcely room to move. Again in my room, I attempted to make necessary repairs to both my clothes and

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