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hout anything ripping or dropping off. I looked over the bonnet of the car and noticed that Sheila was being searched! My policeman said to me, "'Name please." "Erm TTTony SSSummers." "Put your hands on the bonnet and spread your legs, please." In a dream I did as I was told. I saw Sheila opposite me doing the same. Our eyes met. I could see the horror in her eyes as we realised simultaneously that very soon, the policeman would find a package that he did not bargain for! He stared with my ankles and quickly frisked up to my hips and then.... 5 Sheila winked at me, screamed and fainted! The policeman who was frisking me immediately stopped what he was doing and ran around to the other side of the car. "What did you do Mick?" "I didn't do anything, Dave, she just sort of dropped!" While the two policemen tried to revive Sheila, I had time to get my act together. I went over to them, trying not to fall over in my bloody shoes and in my best, concerned girly type voice said, "What did you do to my friend?" "Sorry Miss, she just fainted on me." Sheila was showing signs of revival, moaning for all she was worth and struggling to get up. Both policemen helped her shakily to her feet. "Are you OK miss?" "Y..yes thank you. I'm sorry, it was the shock of you running your hands up and down me. I'm not used to that sort of thing." "Sorry, miss we have a job to do." "Why did you stop us?" said I, all brave and flashing my eyelashes. "A car answering the description of your one was reported leaving the scene of a robbery. We had to check it out. Also your offside break light was out, so we had good reason to stop you." Sheila was, by now, back to her usual self. "Why the hell did you start body searching us. Do we look like desperate criminals or are you just pervy?" Just then the police radio sounded. Mick went over to the car and then after a few moments came back. "It's OK, the robbers have been caught." "Well," sad Sheila, "thank God for that. Can we go now?" "Yes miss, but please get your light seen to or you will be stopped again." With that, the policemen ran to their car and left us in a hurry to go and stop more innocent people going about their lawful way. I slumped into the passenger seat of Sheila's car, smoothing down my skirt with one hand and wiping my fevered brow with the other. "Sheila, you should win an Oscar for that performance." "Not bad was it. I knew that there could be awkward questions if he found the little surprise in your panties. It was the best I could think of at the spur of the moment." "Well that's it. I've had enough. First we go to McDonalds and I slip on some brats" dinner. Then I get stopped by the police and almost strip- searched. I am a nervous wreck. I can't go through with it. I won't go through with it. I've aged ten years today." Sheila said nothing as we drove home. She almost spoke several times, but thought better of it. In the mood I was in I wouldn't have listened anyway. All of a sudden there was a bang from the back of the car and it lurched drunkenly to the side of the road. "Oh shit, what now!" I shouted desperately. Sheila got out of the car and went around the back. "We've had a puncture, you have to get out of the car." "I can't get out, someone will see me." "Toni, I am not going to fix this with you in the car. You have to get out. The jack won't take your weight as well as the car." "I'm not fat." Even to me, my voice sounded a bit squeaky and hysterical. Sheila walked over to my side, wrenched the door open and said, "Go sit on that wall, it won't take a minute." Reluctantly I got out of the car after looking everywhere to make sure that no one was about. I sat on the wall, wincing as my bum felt the slight shock of the cold wall on my scantily clad rear end. Just then I heard the noise of a big engine. I glanced up and saw that it was a bus coming up the road. I shrunk down a bit, in the vain hope that I wouldn't be noticed. What I didn't realise was that the bus stop was right by where we had broken down! Of course it stopped next to us and out came about a hundred people. My face must have looked as red as the bus, cos that's how it felt. I had nowhere to hide. Just then a snotty nosed boy of about 10 and his anaemic looking mum came up to me. The boy was picking his nose with the intensity of an expert and eating whatever he found up there. From being red, I now felt green, after looking at the nasally challenged brat. "Hello Dear, are you all right?" said the Mum. "Erm, yes thanks. Um my friend is fixing a puncture, then we'll be on our way." "Mum," said the brat, "why does her face look red and green?" "Don't be rude Damien." "You do look a bit peaky, Dear, will you be OK?" "Err Umm yes thanks. I er think that I'm coming down with a cold." "Well, you should wrap up warm, dear. You young girls think you can dress up in next to nothing. No wonder you catch all those nasty bugs. Come on Damien, let's get you home." With that, The lady and brat walked off down the street. As they went, the kid turned round and poked his tongue out at me. I returned the gesture and put my finger up in a very unladylike manner. It was crude, but it helped. I looked at Sheila. She was struggling to change the wheel. I was just about to offer my help, when I heard the sound of two motorbikes coming up and screeching to a stop. I looked around and there they were. 'Oh my God,' I thought. The vision in front of us were two bikers covered in leather, chains and hair. Both over six feet tall. They went over to Sheila and one said, "Ullo love, got problems wiv yer wheel then?" "Erm yes, the nut's stuck," said Sheila with a slight quaver in her voice. I don't know if she was scared, but I was nearly wetting myself. "Shove over luv, let me and Ronald do it." (Ronald!) I giggled slightly hysterically as they bent over and I saw what was written on the back of their leather jackets. One said "I luv my Mum" and the other one said "I luv his Mum too". In less time than it takes to tell, the wheel was changed and after our profound thanks, Ronald and Derek (I kid you not) were off down the road, in a haze of blue smoke and burning rubber. We got back in the car and were off again. I was about twenty years older by now and twitching slightly. Today had not been a very normal day and would take years of intensive therapy to rectify. Finally, we arrived home. We stopped outside our house and I got out. It was funny, I was so used to wearing those clothes that it was second nature for me to get out of the car, smooth my skirt down and go up to the front door. I was so wrapped up in myself, I didn't even look to check if anyone could see me get out of the car. Sheila locked the car and opened the door. She followed me up to my room and came in after me. I knew that she was going to try to persuade me to change my mind I was adamant that I wouldn't. "Look Toni.." "Don't Tony me, I have been through hell and back these past few hours. I don't want to know. Thanks for trying. I really appreciate it, but my mind is made up. I wont go to the interview." "But you will get away with it. You have to admit that at times you forgot you were a boy and you sounded, looked and acted like a girl." "I suppose so, but that is different from trying to get a job where I have to be a girl all the time at work." "Look Toni, you have only been a girl for a few hours and look at you, you're a natural. If I didn't know different I would think you were a girl. Its all a question of confidence." "Yes, and I haven't got any." Sheila looked at her watch. "Look honey, I have to go to work, I've got no more time to argue with you. It's up to you. I'll be back at 6, if you change your mind, then I'll help you. It would be the difference between you having enough to live on or getting chucked out on the street. It's up to you. Bye." Sheila went out and closed the door behind her. I went over to the mirror and looked at myself. I was so full of doubts and conflicting feelings. I knew my confidence was low, who's wouldn't after the day I had just experienced, but looking at the girl in the mirror, I also knew that I liked what I was seeing. My heart was beating like a drum. I had conflicting and strange emotions that I could not put properly into words. I looked at the image of myself for ages and imagined what it would be like to live as a girl. It looked as if the prospect of it happening was almost inevitable. I felt the silkiness of my blouse, and then slid my hands down my skirt. I experienced a thrill at the feel of my feminine attire. It was strange, weird, kinky and downright eerie, but I couldn't deny it, I liked the way I looked and felt. Perhaps I should have been born a girl. I know that some people feel that way. But until now, I thought I was 100% male. Now I didn't know. 'Oh God," I thought with alarm, 'I'm actually enjoying looking like this. I must be turning into a pervert.' Just then there was a knock at the door. 'It must be Sheila,' I thought, 'I wonder what she wants now?' I opened the door, not thinking about what I looked like. I jumped as I saw it was Mr Davis, the landlord! He looked past me and said, "Sorry Miss. Erm is Tony in? I need to see him urgently." I had to think on my stockinged feet. "Ummm, he's out at the moment." "Are you a friend?" "Err, sort of. He's ah my cousin." I cringed as Mr Davis looked at me closely and then smiled. "Yes, I can see the resemblance. But you're much prettier." "Er, thank you." "Can you tell him, sorry but I need the back rent sooner than I thought. I need the money by Friday at the latest, otherwise he has to go." I gasped. Friday, no way could I get him the money by then. "I... I mean Tony said that you gave him until next week to pay." "That's before I found out that he had no job. I have someone who will take the room quickly. The new tenant has a job and I can't afford to take a chance of not getting paid by Tony." Just then my mouth became disengaged from my brain. In mitigation, you have to understand that I had been through some pretty traumatic times, in the last few hours. Call it delayed shock or something. Anyway, I don't know why, but I heard myself say. "You don't need to worry about Tony getting a job. I'm living here with him now and I'm a secretary. I don't get paid til the end of the month, but I promise that you will be paid then." I smiled, batted my eyelashes so much, that I could feel the draught. I tried to myself appear like what I thought a coy, nice girl would look like in this improbable situation. "I don't know. I should really let the new man have it." "Pleeeaase." He looked undecided and then smiled. "OK honey. On two conditions." (Oh God!). "One. That you are the named tenant." "That's OK," I said. "And two, because I like to vet all my tenants for suitability, I take you out for a meal tonight... On me." (Oh shit!!) "Er I can't. I'm washing my hair tonight." "Well, this other guy wants an answer tomorrow. If I can't vet you tonight I may have to let him have the room." "Can't you vet me now?" "No I have to go to the bank and then chuck out, I mean assist some other tenants who can't or wont pay. That's the deal, take it or leave it." I looked at his mottled lined face. He had beads of sweat on his forehead. I think he was smiling, but it appeared to be more of a leer. I could see his discoloured teeth behind his cracked lips. His deodorant smelt strongly of B.O. He was wearing a dirty mac, perhaps he was one of those people who went to seedy places where his mac was considered as de rigueur. In short, he was not my type. But, I had no choice. It was a far far better etc...... "OK," I said reluctantly, "what time?" "I'll pick you up at 8 p.m., bye." With that, he looked me up and down, licked his lips, leered at me and left. I closed the door and sat on the bed. My heart sank. I was in the effluent up to my neck again. What the hell did I say that for! I don't have a job. I have no money and yet I opened my big gob and crap spewed out! I had pushed myself into a corner. I knew that. I hadn't though out the consequences and now I was going to pay for it. I looked at my watch. It was 2 p.m. Sheila would be back at 6. Perhaps she would help me to get ready for my first (and I sincerely hoped, only!) date as a girl. Oh God what had I let myself in for now!! 6 I was still sitting on the bed, half an hour later. I was in shock. I still could not believe what I said to that effing creep, Davis. I had actually batted my eyelids at him like a call girl on heat. OK, if he was a hunking male with a body to die for, a face to match and muscles in the right places, but Davis! He was the original creepy and dirty old man. Then I realised what I had just thought and I broke out into a sweat. What was I doing, thinking about hunky men! I am a hunky, well puny really, man. Well not much more than a boy, actually. Anyway, you know what I mean. No way was I attracted to men. All right, I looked nice dressed as a girl. Hell, I fancied myself looking like that and I felt nice too. All that silky stuff...nice, but that was no reason or excuse to think pervy thoughts about men. I got up and went to the cracked mirror over the washbasin. I looked at the scared face, blinking at me in the reflection. There was no denying it; I looked nice as a girl, much nicer than I would be as a boy. Still I was a man and men should not think such thoughts. "Am I gay?" I said to my reflection. "No, I can't be. I love girls. It's just that girls don't seem to feel the same way about me." I had tried to date a few girls and I had even gone to one of those speed-dating places a couple of months before. I was the youngest one there by a long way. Every girl was at least thirty. I had tried to put on the charm, but being small, shy, inexperienced and young didn't help one bit. No one was interested except an old lady of at least forty, who wanted to mother me. 'Anyway,' I thought, 'this doesn't help me much. What the hell am I going to do?' I made myself a cup of tea, sat down on the bed and wracked my fevered brain as to how I was going to get out of this. I could see no way out. I had no job. I was going to be chucked out of my home, unless I go out with the monster from the black lagoon. I had to go through with it. I had no choice. Then I had another distressing thought. I remembered that I had to go to an interview dressed like a girl and get the job as well! I felt my head was beginning to split. I had a few aspirins and then lay back on the pillow. Everything was going around my head as I drifted off into a troubled sleep. I dreamt that I was in McDonalds. I was just wearing some panties and a bra. I stood in the middle of the crowded room, shivering. Everyone was pointing at me. There was the spotty boy who had served me. The two policemen who had stopped me and Sheila leering at me, with a huge syringe in her hand. The bikers were there, holding hands and making rude gesturers. Finally, there was Davis standing in front of me. They were all chanting, "Fake, Fake, FAKE." Just then Davis, with an evil leer on his face, a dribble of saliva coming out of the corner of his mouth and his tongue hanging out and panting like a dog, ripped open his dirty, stained mac to reveal..... I woke up suddenly to a banging at my door. I shakily got up and opened the door. I could see with bleary eyes that it was Sheila, still in her nurses uniform. I must have slept for longer than I thought. "Hi Toni, I'm back. Good God girl, what have you done to yourself? You look like you've seen a ghost!" "Um, just a bad dream, anyway. Don't call me a girl; remember under all this stuff, I'm 100% man." "Err, if you say so." "What do you mean by that?" "Nothing, nothing. Anyway, do I have to stand at the door all day or can I come in." "Sorry," I said as I let Sheila in. "Well, Toni, have you decided what you are going to do?" she asked, sitting on the bed and looking at me with a quizzical expression. I sat next to her and sighed. "Well Sheila, there have been some developments." "What sort of developments?" "Davis knocked on my door, shortly after you went to work." Sheila whistled. "Were you dressed like that?" "Yup." "Oh GOD, what happened?" "Um, I er, pretended to be my sister." "Tell me all and don't leave anything out." I told Sheila what happened in full and explicit detail. I was not very happy to tell her, but I had no choice. Sheila hooted with laughter. "So you've now got a date with Wondering Hands, have you?" she asked trying to control her mirth. "Wondering Hands?" "That's what all the girls in the flats call him. Given the chance, he is all over you like a rash." "Did you let him touch you up?" "He tried, but I work in A&E and we are used to that sort of thing. Let's just say that he had to use his other hand for a week." "To do what?" "Never mind. So you have painted yourself into a corner and you want Auntie Sheila to help you out of it." I nodded my head, not wanting to say anything. "Well, I suppose it's partly my fault for not warning you about the lovely Walter Davis." Sheila took charge, thank God, as my brain had booted down and wasn't able to think effectively. "OK Toni, back to my place and let's get you ready. Quick, we haven't got much time!" "What do you mean, we have two hours?" Sheila laughed and said, "Two hours is nothing. You really need at least three, but we will have to manage somehow." We arrived at Sheila's flat and in no time, I was stripped and having yet another shower. I had to wash and condition my hair using some girly looking pink goo. Once I was clean and dry, I put on her silky robe again. This was all a bit like deja vu as they say in France. Sheila rapped a towel around my hair and hustled me into her bedroom. I sat at her vanity and she dried my hair using a dryer. She then teased and back brushed my hair to make it stand out more. I was given a wispy black bra, which I put on with some difficulty. "You need to start doing this stuff for yourself. I won't be here all the time, so get used to it." After fumbling with the bra, Sheila put in the pink blancmanges. I mean breast forms. I gasped a bit; they were bloody cold! Next came the panties. They matched the bra, black with lace and stuff. It was tricky, as I had to pull my little tinkler in between my legs and Sheila did something with my nuts that made me gasp. "Ouch," I complained loudly. "Stop moaning, I've just put your balls back up inside you. You learn funny things on the wards, now days. Look, see no sign except a little bulge." "It's not very comfortable," I complained in a winy voice. "See how you go. Now what shall we wear tonight?" "Are you coming too?" I said hopefully. "No, I was speaking figuratively." "Oh." "Now then," said Sheila, opening up her wardrobe, "what will look nice on you." "I don't want to look nice. I hate that creep. I do not want to encourage him." "You need to look nice, otherwise, he will think you don't like him and he will chuck you out. Now you want to look nice but not drop dead gorgeous as you don't want him to try it on with you." "Yuk! You don't think he will do you?" "Probably, but you can always say that you have the curse." "What curse is that?" "Time of the month." "It's the 15th. What has that got to do with it?" "Periods Toni, periods; you must know about that. Didn't you learn about the birds and the bees at school?" "Oh, sorry. I didn't pay much attention to that, it seemed a bit messy." "Anyway, it should stop him going all the way." "I don't even want him to think about starting, let alone going all the way. Anyway, remember, I am a boy, not a girl. I don't have all the bits. Hell, I don't have any of the bits so he couldn't go all the way even if he tried!" "Believe me, honey; given the chance, he would try, if he thought that he would get away with it. Hence, the ploy I always used if I didn't want that sort of attention. You have the curse, right?" "OK. I'm beginning to wish that I just moved out and gone to live in one of those nice cardboard boxes in an alley somewhere." "None of that talk. Now let's get on with it as we don't have much time." Sheila got to work on me and it was just before 7.00pm that I found myself back in my dingy flat, staring in the mirror and looking at Toni. I was wearing a black satin long sleeved top, a black leather skirt that was about six inches above my knees, black shear-stockings and four-inch heels. My hair looked full and a bit wild. I kept pushing the hair from out of my eyes. God knows how Sheila had made my hair look like that. Anyway, my makeup was quite heavy. I had striking blue eyelids. My eyebrows had been plucked (ouch!). My cheeks had a flushed look, my lips were large, wet looking, very red and I looked as if I was continually pouting. "What do you think, Toni?" I didn't say anything. "Well!" said Sheila impatiently. "Er, um er, I look er, different." "You look hot, girl. No way is Davis going to chuck you out. He will want to see you as much as possible and can do that if you are the tenant." "But looking like this I will have to continually fight him off. Hell, even I'm turned on looking like this. What will it do to a dirty old man like Davis?" Just then, there was a knock on the door. Sheila looked at me and I looked at her. She went into the bathroom to hide, as we had agreed that Davis should not see her. I gulped and slowly walked over to the door. My heart was in my mouth as I opened the door and standing there was Walter Davis. He was wearing a suit. Well, I call it a suit but it looked as if it was twenty years old. It was brown and had a faint pin stripe. I could smell the lovely aroma of mothballs wafting from it. His shirt was sort of lime green in colour and needed an ironing. His tie was orange with pink spots on it. I cannot believe that it was ever in fashion. I was a bit taken aback by what he was wearing. Eventually, my eyes went up to his face. He had washed, which must have been a first, but his shaver had missed a few places and my eyes were drawn towards a particularly large mole on the side of his face, which still had a few hairs sprouting out of it. I think he was smiling, but it was more of a leer, as he looked me up and down, taking in my somewhat sexy attire. He was breathing heavily, for some reason and all he could say, in between gasps, was "wow." 'Ah well,' I thought. 'In for a penny.' I went to get the leather coat that Sheila had given me for tonight and went over to the door. "Shall we go?" I said in a squeaky voice. "Of course my dear," he said, finally finding his breath. I walked downstairs, trying not to fall over and break my ankles on the high stiletto heels. I could hear Davis, still breathing heavily behind me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood out in anticipation of the night in front of me. Eventually, we were outside and I looked around for his car. Just then, a huge great long stretched limo swooshed up and stopped. Out got a man in a chauffeur uniform and he came round and opened the door. "Madam," he said in a Jeeves sort of voice. I hesitantly got in and tried to sit down on the plush white leather seat. The problem was that I forgot that I was wearing leather too and I promptly slid off and landed on the floor. My legs were up in the air and I could see that both the chauffeur and Davis were looking at me with tongues out. I quickly pulled myself together, rearranged my legs and sat down on the seat. Davis quickly joined me on the seat and virtually sat on my lap. I struggled to put some distance between my self and odious man, but I was hard up against the car door. I tried to think of something, anything to get the octopus off me and said the first thing that came into my head. "Mr Davis, please don't sit so close, you might catch it." He moved away from me as if I had given him an electric shock. "What's wrong with you?" he said with alarm in his voice. "I've, er, just gotten over athletes foot and I don't want you to catch it." Hey, it was on the spur of the moment and if you can think of anything better under pressure, you just try it! He looked at me funnily and said, "Athletes foot is a foot condition, isn't it?" "Er, yes, but it is highly contagious and you can get it from touching other things as well as feet. A bit like foot and mouth." He looked at me a bit strangely, but kept to the other side of the car until, after about three years; we arrived at the restaurant. Jeeves, or whatever he was called, opened the door for me and I stood on the pavement, with the wind whipping up my skirt while Davis struggled to get out of the car. As the car wooshed away, I turned around and looked at the restaurant. It looked quite expensive. There was a man outside wearing some sort of gaudy uniform, covered with ribbons and medals. He opened the door for us and I walked in first, waiting for the bottom pinch from Davis, which luckily did not materialise. A man in waiters uniform came over to us, took one look at Davis, sniffed and said, "The fish and chip shop is around the corner." Davis puffed himself up and said, "I have booked a table for two in the name of Davis." I was so embarrassed that I just wanted the ground to open up. The waiter sniffed again, looked at his list, raised his eyebrows at seeing Davis's name and said. "This way... um... Sir, Madam." We went over the acres of deep, plush carpet to our table. I was very aware of my appearance. At any moment, someone might stand up and tell the world that I was not a girl, but a man dressed in drag. I could see out of the corner of my eyes that many faces were staring at us. I felt like a fish out of water and Davis looked just like a complete halibut. I wished that I was anywhere, even McDonalds, rather than here. The waiter helped me into my seat. No one helped Davis. "Would you like a drink while you look at the menu sir?" Davis tried to look important as he said, "Pint of lager please." "And what would madam like?" "Diet coke please." I wanted to stay sober, but if things got bad, I wanted to keep my options open. The waiter left us while we looked at the menu. I saw the prices and they were incredibly expensive. Even a prawn cocktail would cost more than a year's salary in some third world countries. I realised that Davis was talking to me. "Pardon?" I asked. "What would you like to start, my dear?" smirked Davis. (My dear!!!) "Erm, prawn cocktail please." "And your main course?" I looked feverishly down the list of main courses. It was all foreign to me. At last, I saw something I recognised. "Fillet steak please." Davis clicked his grubby fingers and the waiter came across with our drinks. After putting the drinks down, the waiter got out his order book, licked the end of his pencil and said "Sir, are you ready to order?" We will both have prawn cocktail followed by steak and all the trimmings. "Very good sir, and for the wine, I can recommend the Cabernet Sauvignon?" "Is that white?" "Ahem, no sir, it is red. It goes very well with red meat." "OK, we'll have that then." The waiter went off leaving me to stare into the bloodshot eyes of my companion. He spoke, "Well, my dear, I bet that you didn't expect me to bring you to a posh restaurant like this?" "Um no Mr Davis, I expected something a little less expensive." "Anything for you, my dear; and did you like the car?" "Very nice, if a bit big, Mr Davis." "Now, now, my dear; we can't stand on ceremony, call me Dirk." (Dirk!!) "Dirk?" "Yes, that's my name and sorry, I don't know yours?" "Tony," I said without thinking. "But that's your brother's name." "Er, yes, but his ends with a y mine ends with i." "Confusing, that." "Yes; Our mum and dad's little joke." "I mean, there is no way you can be confused with your Brother is there?" The coke went up my nose and I nearly choked. "Are you alright, Toni?" "Yes, thank you Walt... I mean Dirk." "Anyway, I much prefer your company to his." "Does that mean that I ... I mean we can stay in the flat?" "I don't see why not, if tonight goes OK, of course." I didn't like the sound of that. What other evil things did he have plans to do with me.? He drank down his lager in one gulp, burped loudly and said, "Better out than in." An old lady sitting at the next table looked at him as if he was a cockroach and I must admit I had sympathy for that viewpoint. After a few minutes of small talk and I really mean small-minded talk, our starters arrived. I ate with relief at not having to talk to Davis. He put a napkin around his neck and started to eat as if he had not consumed food for days. He put the food in his mouth as if he was shovelling coal in a boiler. It was not a pleasant sight. "Well, Babe, like the food?" "Er, yes, very nice." I looked around at the other diners. It seemed to me that we were the centre of attention. Were they looking at me, a boy dressed as a girl or Davis, that celebrated A Hole with the manners of a pig? Sorry, I am disparaging the pig species. Looking at Davis, I could not think of an animal that came close to the way he ate. All the time he was eating, he was looking at me or to be precise, my breasts. He obviously had a fetish about them. To say I felt uncomfortable would be an understatement. I kept looking at the watch that Sheila had lent me. I swear that the hands were barely moving. Davis was talking to me again. A marvel really, as his mouth, for once, was not full of food. I tried to pay attention to what he was saying. His voice had a slur in it now, no doubt helped by the three quarters of the bottle of wine that he consumed together with the third pint of lager he had just polished off. "Well babe, I can see that you are enjoying yourself. If you play your cards right, there is plenty more of this coming your way. "Sorry, I don't know what you mean." He smiled. My eyes were drawn to his mouth. It was fascinating really. He had bit of food around his bloodless lips. I could see his lizard like tongue, darting out occasionally as if to taste the air. His teeth, brown with nicotine stains and in the need of major repair work, glinted in the glair of the overhead chandeliers. He sipped his fourth pint as he continued. "Well, a pretty girl like you needs a strong, rich man like me to look after you. I'm sure that we can come up with an arrangement regarding your rent in return for, shall we say, certain favours? My heart sank like a stone. What did he mean by certain favours? I did not like the sound of this. "Sorry, I don't understand." "Look, honey. I'm a man of the world. I have needs, manly needs and I'm sure that a girl like you would be able to satisfy them. Now don't say anything. Hear me out, in return for you being my escort and er, date sometimes..." I had to say something, anything. "Aren't you married?" "Eh, what, yes but she doesn't understand me. Now, where was I?" He sipped on his lager and continued. "As I say, I need a date sometimes. Someone who will help me relax and enjoy myself. You are lucky that I'm around. You could live in splendour. I could take you to posh clubs and restaurants. Wine you and dine you. I'm not poor. I have been fleecing... I mean collecting rent on all my properties for years. I have plenty stashed away to enjoy myself with. Let me give you a bit of advice. Get that worthless brother of yours, out of that flat and I will let you have it rent-free. In return, you can be my bit on the side, my significant other, in short, my bit of fluff. I could pop round and we could make hay together very regularly. What do you think; good idea eh?" I looked at him. My brain was numb. I had thought that I had not been very fortunate in my life, but now it came to this. He thought that I was only good enough to be his bit on the side. I may have been a bit short when God handed out brains, but no way was I going to have anything to do with this poor excuse for a man. Without another thought, I picked up his pint of lager and poured it over his head. His look of shock was enough to make up for this evenings disaster of a date. I got up and walked out of the restaurant. I could hear him shouting behind me as I walked past the shocked diners. His voice was ringing in my ears. "I want you and that waste of a brother out of that flat by the morning, you bitch." As I went through the swing doors of the restaurant into the cold night air, it hit me. I was homeless again and I didn't have a clue as to what I could do about it. 7 I was out on the pavement. It was cold and quite dark. I knew that I had a long walk home, so I started down the road. As usual, I was in a panic over whether anyone would see me, realise that I was not all girl and shout for the police. I could hear the clatter of my heals, striking the pavement. The noise was almost as loud as my heart, which was thumping away as if I had done a marathon or something. I had done it again. I regretted poring lager over the head of the hated Davis. Not because he didn't deserve it, in fact I really enjoyed doing it and seeing the look on his pock marked face, but because I was now without a home. I was deep in the doo doo surely; things couldn't get much worse, could they? The wind blew up my skirt and I screeched out a little "eak" as I tried to keep my Marilyn Monroe impression to the minimum. As I carried on I noticed that the streetlights were well spaced out and for a lot of the time it was quite dark. A stone or something had somehow gotten into my shoe, God knows how, as I felt as if I was on stilts in these things. I stopped by a lamppost, put one hand up against it and using the other one; I took my shoe off and emptied it of the offending object. It was a tiny bit of stone but had felt like a boulder. I gratefully put my shoe back on and was just about to move off when a car drew up. I looked over thinking that it might be a taxi or something. It was a man in a black BMW. The window silently swished down and the man leaned over to me and said in a whisper "How much?" "Pardon?" "How much?" "Sorry, I don't know what you mean." "Are you up for anything," he whispered. Perhaps he had a sore throat. "I'm on my way home." He smiled, "Is it far, sweetheart?" "Um, no it's about a mile down the road." "Do you want to get in then? We'll go to your place and talk prices as we go." "Ah," I thought, "it must be a taxi then. Funny, no signs up. It must be a posh one if it's a BMW." I got in the car and we were off. "You look nice, love," said the man in a normal if a bit smarmy way. "Erm thanks," I said as I attempted to do up my seat belt. I swear I could smell whisky or something on his breath. Getting in this car was looking like not one of my brightest ideas to date. "So you been doing this long?" "Doing what?" "You know, the streets." "Oh no, I've just left the restaurant." "Used to be a waitress eh? You will make more money doing this." "What, taxi driving?" "Eh?" My skirt had ridden up my legs a bit and I was in danger of showing a bit too much of my panties, so I wriggled my bottom a bit in a vain attempt to pull my skirt down. The man couldn't keep his eyes off me for some reason and the next thing I knew, he put a hand on my leg and was pushing his hand up my skirt! I screamed and to be honest it did sound a bit girly. Out of the blue, there was a crash and the sound of tinkling glass and I went forward against the seat belt. There were another two banging noises and all of a sudden a balloon surrounded me. For some reason I thought of the number six, but in a flash, that thought was swallowed up as I struggled to release myself from the belt and the cloying plastic of the erupted airbag. Eventually I struggled out of the car and I sort of fell onto the pavement landing heavily on my botty. The man was still trying to untangle himself from the seat belt and airbag in a vain attempt to get out of the car as I heard the now all too familiar sound of a police car, eee ooring its way towards the stricken car. The flashing blue lights shone brightly as the police car screeched to a halt behind the badly dented BMW. I knew it, just knew that the policemen were the same ones that had pulled Sheila and me over. You know, Mick and Dave I think their names were. Anyway, they were in full, save that man mode as they pulled the car driver's door open and helped untangle the man from his seat belt and airbag. Once they had managed to untangle the man the policemen started asking questions. "Right sir can I see your licence?" "Er, sorry officer, it's in my other wallet." "Can you tell us what happened?" "Um a cat ran across the road and I swerved to avoid it." I couldn't help it. I should have kept my mouth shut. But remember, I had just a very fraught day. I opened my big mouth and said, "You bloody liar, you were touching me up!" Both Mick and Dave's eyes swivelled towards me. I had made a boo boo. I realised that. "Don't I know you, Miss?" said Dave. I stepped back slightly, into the gloom. "Erm, I don't think so, officer." "Can you substantiate your statement, Miss?" "Sorry, I don't understand." "Have you any witnesses to your alleged assault." Why do policemen have to talk like that? Can't they just speak plain English? "How could I have a witness, he was going about 50 miles an hour, when he groped me!" |I was getting angry now at how stupid these coppers were being. I was forgetting that I was a girl with extra baggage as it were. "Are you sure that we haven't met," said Dave to me, frowning. "She'sh talking rubbish," said BMW man, suddenly. Mick and Dave turned back to the man and Mick said, "Have you been drinking sir?" "Coursh not." "Well, you wouldn't mind blowing into this little bag then," "I don't need to do that Shargeant. I'm perfectly shober." "It's constable, sir and I think that you should just blow into the bag, just to confirm what you have just said." The man looked like a rabbit, caught in the headlights of an approaching car. He did a very stupid thing, he ran for it. The two policemen immediately gave chase, leaving me, for the moment, alone. At this point, I showed a rare bit of intelligence as I quietly slunk (is that a proper word?) away before Starsky and Hutch got back. I took my shoes off to avoid breaking my ankles and ran around the corner as fast as I could in my stocking feet. As I ran, the damned skirt kept lifting up, so I had to use one hand to hold it down. With my other hand holding my shoes and me trying to run in virtually bare feet, I must have looked a bit of a strange sight. Unfortunately, since I was a child, I had suffered a bit from asthma and as such unless I used my inhaler, I run out of breath very quickly. Eventually, I ran out of steam and I slowed to a walk. I sat down by the edge of the curb, gasping for breath and put my shoes back on. There was a call box on the next corner so I wheezed over, put 20p in the slot and rang Sheila. After a few rings, Sheila answered. "Hello?" I still couldn't catch my breath properly and I just wheezed into the mouthpiece. "Sheila," I croaked. "Sorry, who is this? Hello?" "It's me," I gasped. "Who is this? Look I hate you dirty, filthy heavy breathers. If I catch you, I will put your tackle into a mangle and turn the handle real slow. Now get lost pervert, before I ring the police." The phone went dead. I looked though my purse for more change and realised that I didn't have any more cash. I slammed the phone down in frustration and wondered why I was being picked on like this. Perhaps God had a sense of humour, but if he had, I didn't think it was a very good one. Just then I could hear sirens coming my way. I hid behind the phone box, just in time to see Mick and Dave flash by in their police car and I swear that I saw the man who owned the BMW in the back, gesticulating wildly and shouting something. I carried on down the road as my breathing slowly returned to normal. The clouds had parted and it was now a clear evening. The stars were shining and it was a full moon. The roads were quiet and thankfully free of dirty old men, women and children. I was now about a 20-minute walk away from home and I went as fast as I could in my heels. How women could wear these damned items of torture regularly, I would never know. They should get medals for endurance above and beyond the call of duty. Anyway, I had to cross the road. I didn't see the drain cover. My foot landed in one of the slits and with a loud bang, one of my heels broke off. "****!" I said loudly. This was definitely not one of my best days. I hobbled on, listing to starboard and contemplating whether I should break the other heel to even things up when, just then in the distance, I heard engine sounds. It was a... no two motorbikes. In seconds, I was bathed in the glow of headlights as the bikes roared up to me. The bikers took their helmets off and to my surprise, (not really, after all that had happened!) it was Ronald and Derek. "Ullo luv, got problems again?" said Derek eloquently, his chains clinking melodiously. "Yus, I mean yes. I've broken my heel and I'm trying to get home." "Wot's a loverly gal like you doin out alone?" said Ronald, scratching his armpit. "Um, I had a row with my date." "Won us to go an sort im out luv?" said Derek, grinning evilly. "Um...no thanks, I just want to go home." "Yer shouldn't be out ere, all alone like this, at night, luv. There's a lot of strange people about. Looking at Derek and Ronald, in their black leather, chains and wild hair, I wondered what they considered was strange. I was brought out of my musings by Derek. "Got a spare lid wiv yer, Ronald?" "Yus, Derek. We'll give you a lift home, ducks." I looked at the big throbbing machines and the quaked slightly. "No, that's OK, I can walk from here." "Don't worry, love. You'll be home before you know it." In seconds I was hoisted behind Ronald, wearing a crash helmet, which had seen better days, smelling slightly of stale sweat and something else not very nice. I found myself clinging on to dear life as we roared down the road. My skirt was up around my face and my delicate regions were getting the full force of a 60mph gale. I was glad that Mick and Dave were not around to nick me for indecent exposure. Now that would have been fun! True to there word, I was outside my place in no time. Ronald lifted me bodily off the bike. "There you go, luv, nice and safe. Now remember, a nice girl like you shouldn't be out alone." "That's right, Ronald, you tell er." "Um, I'll remember, thanks for the lift boys." I handed the helmet back to Ronald who attached it to his bike. The two bikers roared off and as they went, I noticed that they had different leather jackets on this time. One said in studs, "I Luv Sex" the other one said, "I've got a headache." I limped up the steps, opened the peeling front door and went in the house. I wondered what the hell I was to do now, as I walked up the tastefully uncarpeted staircase to my room. I went in, shut the door with a bang and went to sit on the bed and put my head in my hands. Just then there was a quiet knock on the door. I wearily got up and opened the door. It was Sheila standing there with a quizzical look on her face. "Well, you're back quick. How did you get on?" "Come in," Sheila sat on the bed next to me and looked at me hard. "Rough was it?" "Rough isn't the word. Disastrous would be nearer." "Tell Auntie Sheila then." I proceeded to tell Sheila all that had happened. For some reason, she got a smirk on her face when I told her of the incident with the BMW man, sniggered when I told her that I had rung her and laughed out loud when she was told about Derek and Ronald. "The long and short of it," I said rather testily, "is that I am being chucked out tomorrow and I have nowhere to go." "Now don't worry about that, I...." Just then there was a series of loud bangs on my door. I opened the door and there in all his splendid finery, his lime green shirt and orange spotted tie stained with beer and looking like murder, was Davis. He looked angry, very angry. His little piggy eyes were puffed out. His face was redder than beetroot. The veins on his bulbous nose seemed to stand out more than usual and his hands were clenching and unclenching like he wanted to do serious damage to someone's neck, probably mine. In a flash of intuition, I realised that he was not happy with me and that I would not be on his Christmas card list. "YOU BITCH!" 8 "Sorry, do you mean me?" "Course I do. How dare you leave me looking like a plonker in that restaurant." I was kind of speechless. Luckily, I heard a voice from behind me. "Mr Davis, how nice to see you; lovely tie by the way." "Never mind my sodding tie. I want this cow out of here tonight; now in fact and she can take her snivelling brother too." Sheila pulled me away from the door and stood in the doorway. "Now Mr Davis, I'm a nurse and I can tell by your red looking face that your blood pressure is way too high. Why don't you go home and give yourself time to cool down before you hurt yourself." It was now that Davis the hypochondriac kicked in. He went from red to pasty in nanoseconds. "Do I look ill?" he squeaked anxiously. "Well, you are a trifle overweight with signs of insipid crappyism, not to mention halitosis and other disturbing signs. You should go home and go to bed. You will feel better in the morning." "OK, I will, but I will be here at 11 o'clock and I want to see her and her brother gone." With that, he left the building. I sat on the bed, head in hands. "What's wrong, honey?" asked Sheila, anxiously. "You don't look like a happy bunny." I looked up at Sheila "Look at me, I'm dressed as a girl and have had to go out in public looking like this. I've been to McDonalds and had an incident with a flaming pickle. Then I got picked on by the police force. I've been out to a restaurant with the slime ball from hell. Then I got picked up by a lecherous taxi driver, got groped, had an accident. Had to run from the scene of an accident. Picked up by some gay bikers and now, to finish off the perfect day, I am being chucked out of this place which I laughingly call home. To say I'm an happy bunny is an understatement." "Saying that, it hasn't gone all that smoothly, has it." I just grunted. I had run out of things to say. "Now Toni, don't give up yet. Remember the main thing is that you look all girl and if you get that job, you will be able to find another place with the money you will be getting." "I haven't got the job yet." "So you will go to the interview then? "I suppose I have no choice." "That's true. The only thing is.....no I won't talk about this tonight." "What?" "Well... don't be annoyed, but I think that it would best for you to keep in character until the interview. It would give you time to be more girly." "More girly! Look at me, I'm more girly that the girliest girl could be. Bloody hell, I'm even turned on when I look at myself and I have a great deal of trouble walking, sometimes." Sheila looked at me with concern and then smiled. "Oh, getting a bit stiff down below?" I was somewhat embarrassed and just mumbled, "Sort of." "It's a small price to pay to get a decent job." "If you say so." "Look, I'm going back to my flat now. My big hunk of a man is coming home soon and I want to show him some new moves. Mind you, I'm knackered what with you and the job, so I might just lie back and think of England. I will see you tomorrow at about 8, will you be up?" "Yes, I have to pack remember." "Don't worry; we'll sort it. Are you OK to take your makeup and stuff off? I left some stuff in the bathroom to use." "I'll be OK; bye." It took me about an hour to clean the gunk off my face and hands. I then had a bath and must admit that I felt a bit better after that. In no time at all, I was in my jim-jams and tucked up in bed. In moments, I was asleep. The next morning, I woke up with a start. I could here a noise outside, so I wearily got out of bed and scratching my rear end absent mindedly, I sauntered over to the window. There was a police car outside and there was Mick and Dave, asking questions of one of my Spanish neighbors. I quickly hid bravely behind the curtains and inched open the window. I could just about hear what was being said. "Can you tell us if a young lady lives near here. She's about five foot seven, blond hair hazel eyes and goes by the name of Toni something or other." "No entiendo." "What?" "No entiendo." "Do you speekey English?" "Como estas?" "Pardon." "No entiendo." "This is no good, Dave, let's go have a cup of tea." With that the policemen got into the car put on the siren and blue flashing lights and screeched off down the road, leaving a trail of dust. I quickly got dressed and rushed downstairs. My neighbour was still outside, cleaning his car. "Hi, Carlos, I heard what those policemen were saying." "Hello, Tony; they were being nosy." "Why didn't you speak English? Your accent is better than mine!" "A little immigration problem; if I started talking to them, they may ask for my details." "Sorry?" "I'm not strictly here in an official capacity." "Oh, I see. See you later, Carlos." "Adios." I went back into my room and had a quick wash. I didn't need a shave. I noticed some eyeliner still in the corner of my eye and hoped that Carlos hadn't noticed it. After crunching my cornflakes, I started packing my meagre possessions. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Thinking it might be Davis, I didn't answer it. There was another knock and I could hear the sound of Sheila shouting something. I carefully opened the door and saw that indeed it was Sheila, an angry Sheila, in fact to be precise a downright, over the top steaming and fuming Sheila. I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. "That bastard," she shouted as she exploded into my room. I shut the door quietly and stood in the corner away from the human tornado which was Sheila. She was ranting and raving, not making much sense. I heard a few new swear words, which I made a mental note of, just in case I needed them. After about five minutes of this, she sort of run out of things to say, burst into tears and threw herself on my bed. I went over to her and tried to comfort her. "What's wrong, Sheila? Has something upset you?" As you can see, I am very good at stating the obvious. Sheila sat up and looked at me. Her eyes were puffy and her makeup, which looked as if she had not taken off since last night, looked a bit pandarish. Her hair was in some disarray and her clothes crumpled. In short, she was a mess. "The bugger's, buggered off." "Pardon." "My bloke, mate, boyfriend, lover or whatever. He's gone off, done a runner, pissed off. Do I need to paint a picture?" 9 Next morning, I woke up not knowing quite where I was. I had a hangover. My head felt as if it had been stuck it in a vice and someone was turning the screw. I could hear a hammering noise right next to my head. My bleary eyes cleared a bit and I realised that the banging was the clock, ticking next to the lumpy settee that I was lying on. I looked down at myself and saw that I was wearing a short pink satin nightie and then some of it came back to me. I was staying at Sheila's after being chucked out of my grimy flat by that pervert, Davis. I struggled to my feet, swaying slightly as the pain redoubled in my head and then I somehow lurched over to the kitchen sink. My numb brain was getting back into gear as I remembered fragments from last night. Sheila had wanted to drown her sorrows and I had been her accomplice. I lost count after the third bottle of Chateau Nastycrap, hell I couldn't count my fingers by then. I glugged down a big glass of water. I was so thirsty I that I needed another one straight away. My tongue was like sandpaper, but after the lubrication it improved somewhat to a sort of cardboard texture. There was a mirror over the sink and I made the mistake of looking at it. "Oh no!" My hair had changed colour! Instead of blond it was now was a brunette! It made my face look different to say the least, what with my bloodshot eyes, pallid fishy complexion and strange looking disheveled hair. Just then I heard a groan. It was coming from Sheila's bedroom. I tore myself away from the terrible vision in the mirror and tottered into the bedroom to see if Sheila was still alive. Judging by the state of Sheila, she felt similar to me, like death warmed up. She was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands, groaning softly and swaying slightly. "What happened last night?" she said in a whisper. "We had a few drinks," I whispered back. "Ouch, don't shout." "Sorry," I said in a more hushed tone. I think the rehydration after drinking water had started to kick in as I merely felt terminally ill rather than dead now. I Went to get her a drink of water and stood over her as she painfully drunk it down. Half an hour later, we were sitting at the kitchen table, still in our nighties, drinking coffee and promising never to drink cheap wine again. Gradually my memory of last night was returning. "Whose idea was it to change the colour of my hair?" "Mine, yours, I don't know. After the second bottle, we decided that we had to disguise you so that if Davis came to the flat, he wouldn't recognise you." "It's funny how a change in your hair colour changes the way you look. I didn't recognise me when I saw myself in the mirror." "At least we didn't make a mess of the colouring. Tricky stuff hair dye. Anyway, the colour suits you. It makes you look a bit older. We need to get you to a salon though, so they can cut it properly. If you are going girly full time, you need to look your best and don't forget your interview." "How can I forget that? Do I really need to get my hair done at a salon?" "Yes, it needs professional help. Let me get about twenty aspirin to stop this terrible banging in my head. Then I'll ring Bridget up too see if she can fit you in." "Bridget?" "Yes she is a mate from college. She has a hair salon, just off the high street. She owes me a few favours." With that, she grabbed the phone and dialled a number. "Hi Bridge? It's Sheila. Got an emergency. My friend Toni has made a mess of her hair and it needs sorting urgently. Can you be an angel of mercy and see her today? Good girl, I knew you'd come through. See you in 60. Bye!" She put the phone down and turned to me. "You are in luck, she had a cancellation and we have to be there in an hour. So we need sort out what we are going to wear today. On top of that, you need to do some serious retail therapy." "I've got no money!" "No, but I have a credit card that's itching to be used. It's my ex boyfriends. He gave it to me when he promised me undying love, the cheating rat and I bet he hasn't thought to cancel it yet." It was at that precise moment that it all sank in and I sat down heavily on her bed. "What's wrong Toni?" "It's all going too quickly. In a few days, I have been turned from a normal, well relatively normal, boy into a pseudo girl. I've had all these weird things happening to me. I've been chucked out of my flat. Now I'm going to a salon to have my newly coloured hair prissied up. And you want me to go girly shopping. All for the sake of a bloody job and some berk who thinks I'm a girl not a boy!" "Life sucks huh?" "Too true." "Don't worry hon. Let's face it, your life was going nowhere the way it was. At least being a girl will give you more options and if you don't get this job, you can try for others like it." "As a girl." "Yup." "But I'm a boy underneath." "You don't have to be." "What have a sex change? I've only been like this for a matter of hours and you want me to snip off my pee pee!" "No, stupid. You look all girl on the outside, but you need to get used to things. If you like it and feel deep- down that you are more girl than boy, then you speak to a doctor and go on to the next step. For now just enjoy being a pretty girl." "I'm not pretty." "True, at the moment you look like something the cats dragged in, but being a girl has its compensations." "Like what?" "Like being able to slap on a bit of makeup to hide the cracks. So are you going to sit there feeling sorry for yourself or are we going out to turn you from a still slightly pissed and hung over duckling and turn you into a glamorous swan." "Quack." And so it was, within an hour I was walking hesitantly into the SALON OF DOOM. I been scrubbed clean and was dressed in a pink lacy top thingy, a skirt that did not hide much of my bum and I was showing alarming flashes of the pink silk panties that I was just about wearing. To finish off this tasteful ensemble, I was wearing some very sheer nude tights and heels that appeared to be a foot long. But as Sheila pointed out they were "only" four inches and made me look edible. My hair had been tugged into something vaguely resembling feminine and Sheila had put on some of what she called "day makeup". The whole lot made me feel as I was trying to be Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman but was actually more like that Cameron Diaz in Shrek, you know when the sun goes down. Need I say more. Anyway, once I was dressed, I found that I was having trouble (again) with Percy wanting to get up and see what was going on. A bit embarrassing when you are wearing a short skirt. Sheila suggested that I go and relieve myself in the bathroom. With a red face, I had a quick hand shandy and brought my wayward member back into line again. The journey to the salon was a bit fraught to say the least. Sheila hired a taxi as we only had about twenty minutes to get to the salon for my appointment. The taxi driver turned up and sounded his horn. The journey was not without incident. Firstly, the Taxi driver, let's call him Ted, got out of his cab and opened the door for us. Anyway, Ted took one look at my skirt and started to leer at me. He smiled at me, winked and said in what he must have thought was a great chat up line. "Great legs luv, wot yer doin tonght?" I, of course said the wittiest thing I could think of, "Piss off." All through the trip to the salon, I could see the taxi driver looking at me and winking. He obviously had a thick skin and did not take the fact that I was sticking my tongue out at him and giving him the finger could be considered as a brush off. Sheila completely ignored him and just carried on chatting to me as if we were alone. "Well Toni, looking forward to your first salon trip?" "No," I said glaring at the taxi driver and wishing that I had some mace or something. I was feeling a bit vulnerable. "We should be there in a minute." "Wonderful." After what seemed like three hours, we arrived at the salon. I got out before Ted had a chance to "help me" and stood on the pavement while Sheila paid the creep. "Five pounds? That's a bit of a rip off." "It's the going rate luv." "Don't luv me, you ape. Let me give you a bit of advice." "Wot?" "The lovely lady that you have been ogling at and drooling over happens to be the daughter of the local superintendent of police. I may try to stop her telling her daddy but then again I might not." He went a sort of green shade and said, "Um, sorry luv, erm you don't have to pay this time, sorry to offend, like." With that he rushed off in a screech of tyres. "That's saved five pounds anyway. Come on Toni, let's go in. Don't worry, Bridget won't bite." Sheila led the way and I reluctantly followed. My heart was beating like a big base drum as I entered that holy of holies of women type establishments. There was a reception desk and behind, several basins, chairs and sets of mirrors. It was a bit like a posh and effeminate barbers, I suppose, but with much more torture equipment, like big hair dryers that go over your head and lots of implements on trays that looked very scary. The thing that struck me most was the various intermingling smells. It was like a chemical factory close to meltdown. I had come into the place with a bit of a stuffy nose, but miraculously, my nose had now cleared. Strong stuff! There were women sat in the chairs in various hair states, i.e., being washed, blow dried, cut , plastic things on there heads, massive rollers, you name it, it was being done. None of the women seemed to be in pain, so I assumed that they had some sort of anaesthetic available. Anyhoo, there was a girl behind the said, "Hi Sheila, how ya doing?" "OK Petra, the boss in?" "I'll see." With, she went out through a side door and a few seconds later she came out with another girl. "Hi Sheila," said the girl as they air kissed each other. "Hello Bridge, thanks for fitting us in." "No prob, now is this the girl we were talking about? Toni, isn't it? Hi Toni, I'm Bridget. My god, look at that hair!" She looked at me as if I had an unmentionable disease. "Did someone use a scythe or something?" "Now, Bridget, be nice to Toni. She's very new to being girly as she has just got out of the tomboy stage. I've persuaded her to come because you are a nice person and would not upset her." "Er, yea, right. OK Toni, I think I'll do you in the back room as it looks like its going to take some time and I don't want to frighten off my other customers. Sheila, come back in about two hours. OK?" "Fine, can you do her nails and wax too. You know the full beauty thing?" "Make that three hours and you owe me now!" With that Sheila left me to the tender mercies of Bridget and God help my soul. "OK honey, sit down in this chair and we'll have a chat first. Want a coffee, milk, sugar?" I nodded. I still had not said a word, since going into the salon. Perhaps the fumes had taken away my voice. Bridget was back in a trice. "There we are dear. Get that down you." As I sipped on my coffee, I watched Bridget get her implements ready. She was quite beautiful. About 5 foot five, thin with a lovely open face and wonderful long blond hair. She oozed confidence and I wished that a little of it would rub off on me. "The first time is always the one you remember most," said Bridget. "It was great for me and ever since I have wanted to have my own place so that I could make women beautiful." "You'll have your work cut out with me." "Don't put yourself down. With a bit of care, you can look fantastic. Now first of all we wash your hair......." Time had no meaning for me as she washed my hair twice; put conditioner on it, cut and shaped it. Spent ages behind me tugging and messing about with it and then she wrapped it up tightly in big rollers, put some smelly gunk on it and finally cooked my head under a hairdryer on gas mark 7. I fell asleep and it was only when I heard a ting from the dryer that I woke up. The first thing I noticed was that Bridget had done strange things to my hands while I was in the land of nod. They looked cleaner somehow and smoother, but that wasn't what I immediately saw. What kind of drew my attention was the fact that I had false nails, about half an inch long and coloured in shocking pink! "Do you like them?" said Bridget, enthusiastically. "Erm, lovely," I