THE LINE UP

BY LORA GUY

We can't all be glamorous.

.

.

I was never the best looking girl in the world.
No, I'll never lay claim to that.
But I do have a story I'd like to unfurl,
a tale to pull out of my hat.

You see, I'm a man who likes to don clothes
that your average Joe wouldn't wear.
I've not told a soul; no nobody knows
that I'm so into make-up and hair.

I love to wear dresses or blouses and skirts,
draped over my lacy corset.
Tucked into a girdle; who cares if it hurts?
It's all for the right silhouette.

For years I'd been dressing, but only at home.
I'd never dare venture outside.
I'd make myself pretty then sit all alone,
resigned to the fact I must hide.

Then there in the paper, an ad caught my eye:
"Transvestite's Christmas night out."
I toyed with the thought, should I give it a try?
My mind was so clouded with doubt.

The yule celebration was later this week,
on this coming Friday at ten.
It would be at the ritzy Club Coco Le Chic,
and was only for cross dressing men.

Dropping the paper, I stared into space,
thoughts rattled around in my mind.
Doubt started to fade as it fell into place,
and I left all my worries behind.

I started to plan what I'd wear to the ball;
an elegant strapless red dress.
I'd finish it off with a lacy red shawl,
and five inch stilettos, no less.

Friday I asked for the afternoon off,
I needed the time to prepare.
Lotions and potions to make my skin soft,
curlers and sprays for my hair.

Leaving my home I was nervous as hell,
this time I just had to go out.
I pushed myself on, as if under a spell...
ignoring my panic and doubt.

Floating along, I was taking my time,
wondering what was in store.
Turning a corner, I saw the long line,
of girls waiting to get through the door.

Parking the car, I took a deep breath,
"C'mon girl, you're ready for this."
Although I admit I was half scared to death,
it was too late to just call it quits.

Getting out of the car, I walked into the world,
resolved it was never or now.
Approaching the gaggle of beautiful girls,
I hoped I'd blend in somehow.

As I walked past the girls, I knew I was wrong,
I could feel myself being appraised.
"She shouldn't be here, she doesn't belong."
I was withering under their gaze.

I continued along to the end of the line,
trying to keep my head high.
When my gaze fell upon an obscure little sign
with a message that made my heart fly.

"Bypass the line if you're quick on the draw,
try your wit at this entrance down here."
For a moment I stood as I hemmed and I hawed,
and then felt my resolve become clear.

"Is patience a virtue worth standing outside,
while the clever can enter at will?"
Seconds were all that it took to decide
that my chances were better than nil.

As it started to drizzle, I made up my mind,
and looked back at the glamorous mob.
They can get wet standing out here in the line...
To hell with the self-righteous snobs.

Preening myself, I stood straight and tall,
I knocked and then heaved a deep sigh.
A gruff sounding voice from a hole in the wall,
asked a riddle that I had to try.

"Why'd the polygamist cross the road?
The answer will get you inside."
Without hesitation, I let the words flow,
"To get to the other bride!"

A buzz and a click then a creak and a groan
and the old wooden door gave a grind.
I pulled on the knob and then stepped in alone,
leaving all of the beauties behind.

I walked down a hallway then into the club.
With a glance, I knew I'd be fine.
The place was half full of the girls who'd been snubbed,
by the uppity snobs still outside.

Short girls and tall girls and all in between,
some I'd politely call "stout."
Every conceivable shape could be seen,
with some pretty ones scattered about.

Out of the crowd, a beauty appeared.
She approached with a welcoming smile.
"Hello, I'm Samantha. I'm happy you're here.
Let's get comfy and chat for a while."

We sat at a table with two little chairs,
and a view out the front on my right.
The "stuck-ups" in line stood there quite unaware,
that we watched as they wasted their night.

I offered my hostess a questioning look.
"Why am I in while they wait outside?"
Her smile lit her face like a wide open book.
"I have something I'd like to confide."

"I used to be just like those pretty young tarts,
but I tired of the shallow chit-chat.
I'd rather spend time with the witty and smart;
instead of the self-centred brats."

"The girls I let in might need help finding friends,
some are desperately lonely, I fear.
Hosting this party's how I make amends;
it's my chance to spread holiday cheer."

"An hour from now, I'll swing open the doors,
to the silly young girls still out there.
But I won't let them enter one moment before,
the rain's ruined their make-up and hair."

I smiled and then leaned in to tell her that I,
felt the seeds of a friendship were sown.
I sniffled as I wiped a tear from my eye,
and then offered some thoughts of my own.

"Depression's a demon that I recognize,
unnoticed, he'll try to intrude.
He had my ear, I believed all his lies,
in my self-imposed solitude."

"The lesson I learned in my hours alone,
denies this demon his power.
Kidding myself that I'm happy at home,
makes the loneliness no less sour."

Samantha was stunned by the depth of my words;
it was obvious I'd struck a chord.
"I'm glad you came out to meet me and these girls;
conversations like this I adore."

Starving for friendship, I'd started the day,
apprehensive, to say the least.
With these kindred souls I can honestly say,
good bye famine; I've found a feast.

Merry Christmas everyone!

=====================================================

Me, ready for the ball.
=====================================================

Hi folks, Lora here.
Thanks for reading.
Give yourself a good time for Christmas!