TRANSVESTIA

although I managed two football teams. In short, a rather normal socio-sexual life. And yet, throughout it was this strange urge, too infrequently satisfied, to be a "girl" for a short time. A short time was all I could conceive of. A weekend or longer never crossed my mind.

Throughout my teens opportunities were engineered. One Hallo- ween my girl friend and I went to a costume party as a Middle Ades Lady and her page-roles reversed of course. We rented costumes, far too expensive for our budgets, that looked beautiful-even to my high connical hat with the chiffon streamer from the point that fastened under my chin.

Following university, I joined the Army Reserve and was shortly commissioned. The social aspects of life in the Officers' Mess gave lots of opportunities to put on skits as entertainment on party nights. I usually got the job of writing them and, of course, acting in them. As often as I dared I cast myself in a female role-usually to much laughter and applause, particularly from the girls, who after all were the best critics of my performance and whose "review" I sought most.

I remember one skit in which I had done a Lauren Bacall take-off with another officer who played Bogart. At the end as we took our bows one of the senior officers came up and presented the "leading lady" with a potted geranium. He insisted I join his table for a drink. To many cheers, cat calls and whistles I accepted as graciously as possible, took his arm and "tapped" across the floor with him in my gold, high heeled evening sandals, green satin formal with long white evening gloves and my long Bacall-like hair bobbing on my bare shoulders, as I acknowledged the hoots and hollers of my friends. At his table he introduced me to the people I already knew as "Lauren" and what followed was a quick drink with a chaser of a great deal of laughter. Very shortly dancing started again and a "Ladies Tag" was first. To wrap up the "joke" before it got out of hand, I rose gracefully from my chair and went over and asked the commanding officer to dance He didn't know whether to laugh and accept or run and hide. Taking the opportunity, with a great display of mock anger and dis- appointment, I turned on my heel and flounced out of the room to change back into uniform-somewhat reluctantly. Reluctantly because I had loved every minute of it. I had been told I looked beautiful by two of the girls who seemed to express sincerity in the comment, along with some wonder. I had felt beautiful and wanted it to go on.

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