RANSVESTIA

knit short pancho. BEHOLD! In the full length wall mirror stood a rather tall girl with a pretty (?) face and shiny smooth coppertone— legs, legs, legs! Good Lord, did I feel delicious.

We had a wonderful time and really enjoyed the stage show. In between shows we went and played pool in the back room. I felt like a very sexy pool player. I was very conscious of the eyes behind me when I made center table shots. The rear view must have been very entertaining. One older gentleman came in, watched for a minute or two and then asked if we were "professionals"? Professional what? Pool players? Drag queens? Then it dawned on me. He probably was a little drunk and didn't know where he was. He thought we were professional prostitutes. I really wasn't offended by his obvious mis- conception. After all, the profession has been around for a long time. and any positive (?) reaction to Rachel is flattering. I surely wasn't tempted to take him up though.

After the show we went to a small restaurant which is frequented by gays of both sexes and where all are welcome. When we all got there there was a policeman and several other "straights." They were very amused by the three sexy ladies with men's voices. I was amused by their amusement. I looked at them and said to myself, "You poor souls, you walk life's straight line and live in a cage which society has built for you. I'm glad I provide a little amusement for you." They probably thought, "You poor soul. You oddball, you should be put in a cage where you can let people look and be entertained." We sat looking in utter amusement at each other, both enjoying our respec- tive cages.

I started home feeling very wonderful inside. Occasionally I glanced down at my shaved legs covered only to the high thigh, and shimmering in nylon to the glow of the dash lights. Euphoria. Then, flash-RED-the generator light came on, on the dash, followed a few minutes later by the temperature light. Very strange, I didn't feel panic or worry, just extreme annoyance at the damn car. As soon as the light came on I started looking for a somewhat secluded tele- phone booth which I found just as the car overheated. I hopped out and called Kathy to come and pick me up. As it turned out I could have fended for myself. Boy was I glad I had my boy-clothes. Within two minutes I had metamorphosed myself back to a man. TWO minutes. At minute number three, two county policemen pulled up to

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