RANSVESTIA

by purchasing a feminine article. Now I had bought two wigs and told them they were for me. With new vigor I attacked the rest of my wardrobe list.

A dress, a pantsuit, and an assortment of undergarments would have to be purchased. Paying my wife's bills had taught me that the smaller shops usually were more expensive than the chain department stores. Realizing that this wardrboe was going to cost a tidy sum I chose the department store's economy over the smaller shops privacy. It was a weekday afternoon and the J.C. Penny store was not crowded. I boldly roamed the racks in the women's depart- ment eyeing various dresses and pant suits. I soon discovered that I didn't have the slightest idea what size I would wear.

An attractive sales clerk in her early thirties approached me with the usual, "May I help you?"

Dealing with a man in the wig shop seemed much easier than having to tell my tale to a woman. After all, he worked in a woman's world and obviously had overcome his inhibitions with the machismo hangup of most men. But to blurt out that I wanted to buy a dress and undergarments for myself to a woman in the "great American family department store" seemed suicidal. As I opened my mouth to speak I had visions of her shouting insults at me as the police dragged me

away.

"I want to buy a dress, a pantsuit, two bras, a girdle, four pairs of panties, a slip and two pairs of panty hose."

"What size?" she asked.

"I don't know, what size do I look like I wear?"

She took a couple of steps back and gave me the once over, then turned and walked behind a counter and reached down for something. I thought this is where she calls the security guard to come and haul me away. To my relief she came back with a tape measure and began to measure my chest, shoulders, arm length, waist and hips.

"Hmmmm." she said. "Your shoulders are pretty broad and you're quite tall, this isn't going to be too easy. I think a 38 bra and a 30 girdle will fit you pretty well. How big a cup size do you want?"

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