The Girl, oops, Boy Can't Help It By Kozmik Alaska

Tommy Tisch, needs an act, Geraldine needs a gig. My tribute to Frank Tashlin's 1956 film, The Girl Can't Help It.

Permission is hereby granted by Kozmik Alaska for the publication of this story on his behalf here at Big Closet Top Shelf only.

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As I was saying, this story was formatted in proper HTML using a gorgeous life-like font Hmmm. A gorgeous life-like font. PLINK! Sometimes you wonder who's minding the store. Oh, yes, our story is about music and romance. Not the music and romance of long ago, but the music and romance that expresses the culture, the refinement, and the polite grace of the present day, for today's music is so intertwined with romance, and it is both love and music that makes the world spin, as was seen back in the 1950s when Jayne Mansfield and Tom Ewell starred in the film, The Girl Can't Help It.

"The last two acts you've brought me have sucked. And I don't mean that in a good sense. What makes you think that I trust you to bring me a good act this time?" Mickey Martell snapped as he pounded on his desk.

Tommy Tisch squirmed in his seat "Mickey, c'mon, just give me a chance. Your clientele isn't easy to please."

"You keep bringing me these J Lo and Christina Aquil-whats-her-name clones. When will you get you through your head? I run a gay nightclub. We want beefcake, NOT cheesecake."

"Okay, so I made a few miscalculations as to what they what might like."

"Miscalculations hell! That one chick you brought in here looked like a drag queen."

"I thought that was the idea..."

"These guys wanna see tube steak not silicone." Mickey puffed suggestively on a Cohiba cigar fresh off the boat from Havana. "Look, you bring me one more crap act, and you won't have to answer to me."

Tommy gulped. "Er, w-w-w-what do you mean?"

Mickey pushed the button on his intercom, "Steve, I need some papers shredded. Could you come in here"

The office door opened, and in walked the toughest, most butch, most macho leathermen Tommy had ever seen. Mickey handed him the Greater Toronto Area Yellow Pages. The leatherman held it both hands and with one swift motion ripped the thick book in half. He then pulled a handkerchief out of the back pocket of his leather pants and used it to dust off the corner of Mickey's desk. He very gently placed the torn phonebook on the desk, neatly arranging the stack of paper.

"Thank you, Steve."

A bead of sweat dribbled down Tommy’s face. "I think I get the idea."

"Good. He's a really sweet guy you know. Does needlepoint, you know. So, what can you come up with"

Tommy knew that quick thinking was needed.

"Well, it just so happens that now that I understand what you are really looking for, I have the perfect singer for you. He is, he is, ah, so, well, let just say, that I can't even think of the words to describe him"

"You've been holding out on me. When can he audition for me"

"As soon as I can find him, ah, er, find him some time in his busy schedule"

"Good. Call me. I have something special planned. Now get to work"

"Yes, sir, Mr Martell. You'll see him for the first time right after I do"

Tommy got up from his chair and headed to the door. Steve the leatherman opened the door and showed him the way out.

Meanwhile at a small theatre along Dundas Street, Geraldine Shoreman was belting her heart out with a version of a Celine Dion song. The song drew to a close and the final note resounded to a stony silence from director.

The director didn't even look up from his notepad. "Thank you" his lack of interest was evident.

"Sir, I just wanted to say that I really need this part, please" Geraldine pleaded.

"Thank you. Break everyone" The director placed his stack of papers and the notebook he was taking notes on in his briefcase and set it on the floor near his seat before heading backstage.

Geraldine sat at the edge of the stage sobbing as everyone filed out.

"Damn" she thought. "Another failed audition. What am I doing wrong."

She sat quietly and stared out into the empty theatre. Then she spied the director's briefcase. Hopping down off the stage, Geraldine crept over to where the director was sitting. Pausing only make sure that the coast was clear, she grabbed his notebook and flipped to the page where he was taking notes on her.

A sad look clouded her face "Should go back to her day job. No tits. Flat as the ice at a hockey arena. Too butch"

The tears rolled down her face. Never had she known anyone to be so cruel. Sure, she wasn't too big up front, but she did have talent and that should count for something.

"Damnit, " she thought "I could out act any one of these big breasted poor excuses for actresses."

After scribbling a choice expletive on the notepad, Geraldine tossed it down, gathered her coat around her, and headed for the door. The ride on the Go Train back to her apartment in Aldershot was as lonely and cold as the autumn landscape. She did what any girl in her situation would do in her case. She popped into Sobey's and bought a pint of double chocolate ice cream.

Once back at her apartment, she changed into a pair of warm sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and a pair of bunny slippers. She then grabbed a spoon from the kitchen, plopped down on the chesterfield, and switched on the TV. Between spoons of double chocolate she flipped through the channels, settling on Bravo, the arts channel.

"Next on Bravo, By the time Billy Tipton died in 1989 at the age of seventy-four, he had raised three sons, divorced five wives, and come to the end of a respectable career as a jazz saxophonist. It was only then that his secret was revealed. Billy Tipton was a woman. The Secret Life of Billy Tipton, next on Bravo."

"How curious" Geraldine thought as the programme began. Billy Tipton's life as a man unfolded before her, and as it did, her curiosity rose.

Geraldine watched intently as several of Billy's acquaintances discussed his life. One of them was jazz legend Duke Ellington.

"Billy could blow a mean sax. Some hot lick's came from that sax of his"

"Do you think he would have made it in the jazz world of the 30s and 40s as a woman?"

"No sir. Not at all. Jazz was a man's world as far as the instrumentalist went. Any women in jazz were singers, not band members, you see." the Duke observed.

"But what about the fact that Billy had incredible talent"

"Oh I suppose he could have gotten work. But it would have been seen as a novelty act you see. You know, like in an all girl band."

"Did anyone ever suspect"

"Well, some of us may have thought that he was maybe a, well, a sweet boy, you know. But he got married so many time, we figured otherwise." Duke Ellington answered with a smile.

As the programme went to commercial, Geraldine sat back on the chesterfield.

"I wonder," she thought as she scraped the last of the ice cream out of the container. She got up from the chesterfield to go to the kitchen with the empty ice cream container

Geraldine stopped at the small mirror in the hallway. She ran her fingers through her short black hair to rearrange it into a more boyish style. She then turned sideways and looked at her profile. "Almost, but not quite there" she said before placing the palms of her hands on her small breasts to flatten them.

"It just might work," she thought.

Geraldine went to her desk and grabbed a pencil and pad of paper and began making up a shopping list. After tearing the sheet from the pad, she put on her coat and headed out the door.

Once in Toronto, she took to subway to The Bay. She hadn’t really explored the men’s department in any great depth before. Sizes, what sizes? She picked out a pair of Levi’s Dockers and held them up to her waist.

"May I help you miss?" inquired an approaching salesclerk.

Geraldine felt all the blood rush from her body.

"Ah, er, yes. I need to buy some clothes, for, ah my brother. He, ah, just flew in from Lethbridge Alberta and the airline lost his luggage" Geraldine said as she prided herself with her quick thinking

"Okay, what size does he wear" the salesclerk asked.

"Uh er, ah, well, I wore his jeans once out on the farm.." Geraldine began.

"out in Lethbridge Alberta. And those were the size?" the sales clerk continued.

"Right! The farm in Lethbridge" Geraldine agreed.

Figuring that he had snared a prairie yokel, the clerk prepared to reel in the sale.

"Well, he’ll need abit of eveything then since they lost his luggage. Shirts, sock, underwear, shoes?"

"Ah yeah, everything"

Upon her return home, Geraldine began her transformation. She dug into her CD collection and pulled out a CD. Dance hits of the 80s. Yea, she thought, that’ll set the mood.

As the rhythm of the music built, Geraldine began shedding her clothes. Standing in just her bra and panties, she tore at the packages.

Trousers, shirt, socks, shoes, Jockey Y-Fronts. Jockey Y-Fronts! What the hell had was she getting herself into.

She held the package in her hands and felt a shiver go through her. This was forbidden fruit she thought. But then again, the remembered her acting classes. She should dive headlong into any role. Quickly she pulled off her panties. Holding up a pair of the Jockey Y-Fronts, she took a deep breath and stepped into them. A strange feeling came over her. It was almost empowering. Yes, she could do this. She’d show that damn director. If Billy Tipton could make it in a man’s world, then so could Geraldine Shoreman.

Geraldine dressed in her shirt and trousers and looked in the mirror.

"Not bad" she thought. "Not bad at all. But then I need a good test. I think, I think …. I’ll head back to the city."

Later, as Geraldine walked along Dundas Street no one seemed the wiser. But she realised that this wasn't the best test. Walking down Yonge Street, she made her way past Eaton's Centre, and back to The Bay, where she had earlier done all of her shopping. She took the escalator to the men's department.

Geraldine stood before the display of men's Levi's Dockers. While sorting through them to find her size, the young salesclerk she had encountered earlier in the day walked up behind her.

"May I help you, sir?" he asked.

"Ah, yes, ah, my sister was in earlier and bought a pair of these for me, and I wanted to get another pair."

"Ah yes, I recall her, just this afternoon. Are you twins, from, er Lethbridge Alberta"

"Er, yes, in fact we are. Would I be able to try these on?"

"Of course, right over here" the clerk said as he motioned to the men's dressing room.

Geraldine gulped and took a deep breath. "My ruse seems to be working," she thought as she stepped in the dressing room.

Having succeeded in fooling the salesclerk at The Bay, Geraldine headed back out onto Yonge Street.

While she was busy at The Bay, Tommy sat in a small pub on Edward Street nursing a scotch and water. It was his fourth that afternoon. It threw it back and ordered another.

Nick the bartender squinted at him "Someone who drinks as much as you is trying to numb a problem of some sort"

"Damn Nick, I have to come up with a smash stage act, or the only client I have left is going to have me shredded into little Tommy-bits"

"Trust me, with as much booze as you have in you, you won't feel a thing. It's my responsibility to ask you to lay off the drink for a bit"

"I tell ya, Nick, life sucks, and then you die -- if you're lucky" he moaned.

"A man who sips at scotch all afternoon will soon get his wish" Nick said as he mopped the bar with a towel.

"Can't you turn that infernal radio down, it’s interfering with my desire to pass out"

"That's not the radio, it’s the karaoke machine. It’s karaoke night. Let me get you a coffee. Give the acts a watch, maybe you'll see something there"

As luck would have it in stories like these, Geraldine had finished up her shopping and was walking along Yonge Street. A poster plastered on wooden temporary walkway near a construction site in the 200 block caught her eye. "Do You Have Talent? Karaoke Night! Tonight! Iron's Tavern .. Edward Street .. $200 prize"

"Why not" she thought. "Maybe this will be one audition I won't fail"

Geraldine made a beeline to her car in the parking garage on Bay Street, dumped her purchases in the trunk, and emerged back on Yonge Street. As she hurried along she became aware of the different sensations she was experiencing. The coarser fabric of her new boy's Jockey Y-Fronts rubbed between her legs resulting in some not unpleasurable sensations. Perhaps it was the excitement of the ruse that she pulling she thought.

Upon arrival at Iron's Tavern, Geraldine paid the cover fee and figuring that she needed something to bolster her courage, walked up to bar to get a drink. The bar was dimly lit and held a crowd that looked to be well on their way to attitude readjustment.

"Perfect," she thought. Their impaired judgement coupled with the dim lights could actually help her out.

Nick casually took her order and placed a run and cola in front of her.

"So what do you have to do to try out for the karaoke" she asked as she took a slug of her courage in a glass.

"Just see the man in DJ booth" Nick answered.

Geraldine took another drink, followed by a deep breath, and strode confidently over to the booth.

"I want to register for the karaoke," she said.

The DJ handed her a release form. She began filling out the form, carefully printing G E R A L, then paused to erase those letters, replacing them with G E R R Y. After she completed the form, the DJ handed her a catalogue.

"Pick the tune you a want" he instructed.

Recalling the music she was playing at home, Geraldine picked the song Don't Leave Me this Way by Bronski Beat.

No sooner had she made her way back to the bar for another gulp of her rum and cola, the DJ announced, "Our next contestant is Gerry Shoreman from Aldershot. Please put you hands together for him!"

Geraldine bounded up to the stage, grabbed the mike. In considering the best way to grab her audience, she turned so that her back was to them. Just as the intro ended, she spun around

"Don't leave me this way, I can't survive .. can't stay alive .. without your love..."

Over at the bar, Tom tilted his head. The natural tone of Geraldine's singing voice resembled the falsetto of Jimmy Sommerville, the lead singer of Communards. Jimmy was quite popular with the club scene, especially the gay club scene, Tommy remembered. He felt his toes start tapping to the infectious beat of the song. Clearly the audience was enjoying the show that Geraldine was putting on as she tossed every stage trick she knew into it.

As the song ended, the applause went up. The electronic clap-o-meter on the stage showed that Geraldine had indeed reeled them in.

Tommy turned to Nick. "Who's that."

"Ah, just some clubkid off the street probably wantin' the free food we serve on karaoke night" Nick answered.

Tommy rubbed his chin as he as he turned toward the stage. "No, that my friend is my answer!"

Geraldine stepped off the stage and returned the bar to await the results. In one long drink she quaffed down the rest her rum and cola. Her throat was dry and the rum burned a bit as it went down. She coughed a bit and her eyes began to water just as Tommy approached.

"Hi, can I buy you another?" he asked.

"Jeez - just what I need, some loser trying to pick me up" she thought

"Er, no thanks"

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Tommy Tisch, and I'm an agent"

"Sure, and just like in the movies, you're going to make me a star"

"Not exactly, you are going to make yourself into a star, and I'm going to manage you"

"Pull the other one" Geraldine said.

"I'm serious. I have a client who needs a singer, and you have the looks and the voice to draw them in."

"So, who is this client"

Tommy figured that if he revealed that fact that his client ran the hottest gay bar in Toronto, he'd lose this one and be back to ground zero. But if he could clinch the engagement, and this Gerry guy was hungry enough, he'd have succeeded in avoiding becoming a support pillar on an overpass on the Don Valley Parkway.

"Oh, he's a big one." Tommy scribbled down the address to his office "Look, meet me at this address. 2.30 PM tomorrow. I'll have my client join us for an audition. But that will just be a formality, cause I know he will hire you"

Gerry took the paper and blinked at it. Had she accomplished what she had set out to? An actual stage job. She quickly re-evaluated her opinion of the slightly inebriated man in front of her. "He is kinda cute in a dishevelled sort of way," she thought.

"Dress trendy. He likes trendy. Shirt and tie and sharp looking suit. He'll just love you."

Meanwhile the din in the bar grew louder as did the applause.

Geraldine calculated the costs of what she'd have to purchase.

"Look, I have to go call him. Tomorrow .. 2.30. Got it?"

"I have to go prepare. I'll be there"

Geraldine slid off her barstool and headed to the door.

"Hey, you, young fella" a voice called out behind.

She was just about to open the door to leave the bar when a hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Hey, Gerry. You're the winner! You've just won $200. And the crowd wants more"

Gerry climbed back up the stage and belted out another verse of Don't Leave Me This Way before heading out to enthusiastic applause.

In the hallway of the tavern, Tommy was shouting into his mobile phone. "Yes. 2.30. What? That’s him in the background. Good good."

Geraldine went flying past him as he finished up the call. Just time to get back to the Bay for suit, she thought.

The next morning Geraldine began her preparations. A dark double-breasted suit and a band-collar shirt hung on her door. She grabbed the second pair of Jockey Y-Fronts from the 3 pack she had purchased the say before. Geraldine pulled them on and reached for the tight white a-shirt on the bed. She pulled it over her head. This did a fine job of flattening what little I have in the upper-frontal department she thought as she admired her profile in the mirror. Ah, but there was one area that did need the help of some extra padding.

Geraldine dug in her chest of drawers for a pair of athletic socks. She balled one of them up, poking and prodding it into just the right shape before slipping into the front of her Y-Fronts. Standing in front of the mirror, she further adjusted her new masculine bulge.

The fuzzy cotton appendage she was now sporting rubbed against her clitoris creating some pleasurable sensations in her. They were different this time however. Somehow, coupled with the novel happenstance of being dressed in boy’s underwear, the rush took on a new mesmerising efficacy. She soon lost a sense of where she was and fell back on her bed, making circular motions, growing ever more forceful. In her mind, the sock that she had used as a phallic accessory transformed to flesh and she imagined feeling an erect penis jutting out above a pair of tightening testicles between her legs. She pulled down her Y-fronts and with two fingers began massaging her clit as if it were a penis. As she did so, she imaged feeling her balls tightening. She looked down between her legs and saw the bright white cotton of her Y-Fronts, the waistband with words JOCKEY on them. Soon it was all too much as her legs bucked and she moaned with pleasure as the crest of her orgasm was reached.

Taking a deep breath Geraldine tried to regain her composure. She lay there feeling an ethereal glow about her. She closed her eyes to savour it only to be brought back to life by the summoning of her cuckoo clock at 1.30.

"Damn I gotta get moving. " Geraldine thought. "Still, that was verrrry nice"

She felt the slick wetness of her orgasm between her legs. She covered in a thin film of perspiration.

"Hmm.. I think I have just enough time to take another shower! I sure need it!" she said.

"Mustn't forget the aftershave I bought, either!"

She made a mental note to buy more boys’ underwear.

After she had showered, Geraldine continued dressing, every so often glancing at her reflection. Yes, she thought, she was becoming quite a boy.

Across town in Yorkville, Tommy paced the floor nervously minding the minute hand on his watch. "2.25! Where is he?" he thought.

Geraldine knocked at the door to his office. Tommy gasped a sigh of relief and let her in.

"Is he here yet?" she asked.

"He's due any minute. Do you need to warm up?" Tommy asked as he sat behind the piano.

"Sure. Give me some scales"

Geraldine began doing some la-las up and down the musical scale as Mickey Martell walked in, with Steve, the leatherman at his side.

"I'm likin' what I'm hearin' babe. But can he sing? Anyone can do this la-la stuff." Mickey asked.

"Oh, Mickey, this is Gerry Shoreman. Gerry this is Mickey Martell, and er, Steve."

Geraldine extended her hand in greeting, but soon regretted the action as Mickey grabbed it and gave it a good squeeze. Steve stood off to side and eyed her up. Something in the look on Steve's face indicated a certain amount of displeasure.

"Look Tommy, do you think that your boy there can sing one of my creations"

Tommy had never known that Mickey could write songs. "Well, I don't know, why don't we stick with something familiar for the aud..."

Geraldine cut Tommy off. "I'm sure I can, Mr Martell"

"It's Mickey, please." Mickey said as he turned on an almost flirtatious charm.

The veins in Steve's neck began to bulge.

Tommy took the sheet music from Mickey and began to play. The discord that arose from the piano was unbelievable. Now he wasn’t sure that Mickey couldn’t write songs.

"I don't know Mickey. Gerry's not familiar with this sort of, er, complex melody."

"Yeah, it is kinda complex but its simpler wit da words. Why not let the boy try it." Mickey proposed.

Geraldine looked over Tommy’s shoulder and began to sing...

"He's a cutie, he's a beauty, a real reet-pa-tootie. He keeps me warm at night; he won't run off to fly a kite, when he leaves his butt's an awesome sight. Oh how I love that guy of mine"

Tommy winced a bit. "Uh, yeah, okay. I think we get the picture. You can stop now Gerry." He then silently added, "PLEASE!"

"Yeah, that’s real nice. Real nice. Your little twinky boy there really knows his way around a good song. But a little practice makes perfect."

"Oh I don’t know if practice can help this one" Tommy replied.

Geraldine jumped in "Yeah, it is almost as good as it’s ever going to get."

Mickey reached over and touched Geraldine on the shoulder. "You got good taste, twinky boy" he said.

"Thank you Mr Mar, er Mickey" she replied.

"That sure is some cute twink you have found Tommy. Are you sure you ain’t one of us?" Mickey asked.

Tommy looked over. There was a certain indecipherable cuteness about Gerry. "Er, no, I mean yes, I mean, hey, I just find em."

"I may just try to make a move if you aren’t careful" Mickey observed.

Geraldine moved a little closer to Tommy. Having Mickey Martell think she was a boy was one thing, but him making a move on her thinking she was a gay guy was another.

Steve the leatherman saw what was going on and leapt into the fray.

"Mr Martell, we have to go pick up our liquor order for the club from the liquor control board, don’t we?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. You’re right" Mickey turned to Tommy. "Why don’t you and twinky boy here go up to my private hideaway on Georgian Bay in Parry Sound. You can practice a bit"

Mickey gave Tommy a wink.

"That’s awfully kind of you sir" Geraldine replied.

"Yeah, Mickey but.."

"No buts, at least none except for his" Mickey laughed as he reached around and slapped Geraldine on the rear. "I’ll call my associates and get the place prepared"

He scribbled out the directions on a piece of paper. "Here. Head up on Friday afternoon. Twinky boy, you headline on Saturday night."

Mickey pinched Geraldine’s cheek.

"Nice and smooth. I like smooth twinks" he said.

"We had better get going Mr Martell" Steve persisted.

"Alright already. He’s worse than a wife, eh?" Mickey observed as he and Steve turned to leave.

As the door closed, Tommy breathed a sigh of relief.

"You did it kid!"

"I guess I did. I really did" Geraldine said as she rubbed her cheek.

"Okay, meet me at the cottage at 3 on Friday. We’ll go over some numbers, do some choreography, and you’ll be set for Saturday evening. Got it?"

"Got it." Geraldine answered as she plotted out the tasks ahead. She’d have to stop and get some jeans and shirts, oh, and more underwear.

Tommy looked at her. There was something about her. He couldn’t quite help it. He knew he wasn’t gay, but still he found himself attracted to Gerry. "Ah, you aren’t, are you?" he asked.

"Aren’t what?" Geraldine asked.

"Er, gay? Not that it matters, I mean, I believe that people should be free to love whoever they want to and everyone should be treated with respect and equally and…"

"Tom, I can assure you. I am NOT gay," Geraldine asked. Then silently added, "but I do like boys."

When Friday arrived, Geraldine met Tommy at the cottage on Georgian Bay. Strange feelings and thoughts went through her mind as she made the 250 kilometer drive from Aldershot to Parry Sound. There was an excitement brought about by pulling this ruse off. She had stopped for gas at a Petro Canada station in Oakville and no one had given her a second thought. When she used the men’s washroom at a service centre along the 400, she was trembling with sexual excitement inside. But still, no one even gave her a suspicious glance. It was as if the heavenly hand of the late Billy Tipton was protecting her.

Then there was Tommy. He had a boyish charm that attracted her. Normally as a girl, she’d try to wear something alluring and feminine to attract him. She knew darn well that she couldn’t do that. She settled for a pair of guy’s jeans and a shirt that would at least make her look incredibly handsome.

Tommy and Geraldine rehearsed all afternoon. They did a mix of pop dance hits and show tunes, tunes that Geraldine had longed to be doing on stage. She had never dreamed that she be doing them as a guy though.

When evening rolled around, Tommy fixed a supper of spaghetti and raided Mickey’s wine cellar for a bottle of his finest ice wine. An autumnal chill filled then cottage and Tommy started a fire in the fireplace. Another bottle of wine was opened, and both he and Geraldine loosened up. She looked at him with a bit of longing in her eyes. If she made a move, he’d back away. If she betrayed his beliefs, she’d lose the gig. That, she realised most assuredly, meant that that he’d end up in deep deep trouble. Yet, she had to snag him.

"So, Tommy, no girlfriend, no wife?" Geraldine asked. "How’s come?"

"Just haven’t had time. Look kid, sometimes showbiz just snags us and owns us. Then, we find that there is no way out. Know what I mean"

Geraldine thought about her own situation. "Yeah, I know. But what about Tommy? What does he want?"

"Tommy? Ah heck, he just wants that one big break so that he can move away from the rat race of Toronto. Maybe do some theatre in small cities like Timmins, up north."

"There’s a lot of talent there. Take Shania Twain. She’s from Timmins." Geraldine pointed out.

"Yeah, who’d have thunk it? That in the rough interior of northern Ontario, you’d find a talent like hers"

"Sometimes you have to dig below the surface. All is not what it appears to be" Geraldine observed hoping that Tommy would get the message.

The wine continued to flow and as the embers of the fire dimmed, Tommy and Geraldine soon fell asleep. The room took on a bit of a chill as the fire died. As she was drifting out to slumberland, Geraldine snuggled closer and placed her arms around Tommy. She hadn’t felt this type of inner warmth in along time.

Meanwhile, Tommy was also waxing and waning between reality and the territory of morpheus. Sleepily he glanced at the arms around him. He shook his head, and tried to sort out the fact that this snoozing guy next to him had his arms around him. The haziness caused by the alcohol allowed him only the strength to move Geraldine’s arms. It must be a dream he thought. "Still", he thought, "I don’t really mind the thought of having Gerry curled up next to me. I feels right."

The 7 AM sunlight glinted across the bay and lit the room waking Tommy with its brightness. He glanced over to see that Gerry wasn’t next to him.

"What a weird night" he thought, spying two empty wine bottles in front of him.

The urgency in his bladder coupled with a pounding in his head precluded any other sorting fact from supposition. He wobbly came to his feet, placed his hand on his forehead and nodded, letting out a groan before taking some gentle but hurried steps to the bathroom. Without thinking, he flung the door open.

As if the pounding in his head wasn’t bad enough, his senses were now assaulted with the sight of Geraldine. It was sort of the Gerry he knew, wearing only a pair of white Fruit of the Loom fly front briefs, but with small cup breasts. Tommy’s eyes moved from Geraldine’s small breasts down to the words FRUIT OF THE LOOM and yellow and blue stripe around the waistband of her boy’s briefs to the lack of a bulge in the front of them.

Tommy grabbed his head and began moaning "Oh no .. Oh no .. you can’t be .. you are .. Oh no oh no. I can’t be .. I am .. I am going to be made into little Tommy bits."

Geraldine rushed over to him as he slumped on the floor. "I'm sorry! I really am, Tommy. Please oh please understand it was the only way I could land a job on stage. All the theatres said I was too tomboy-ish."

With a forlorn look his eyes Tommy looked at her. "Oh sure, I’ll just say, Mickey, Gerry is really a girl. I’m a dead Tommy. Call a funeral director and make an appointment for me, will ya."

Geraldine placed her hand on his cheek. "No, Tommy it’ll be okay. Look, I like you and won’t let anything happen to you."

"Oh that explains it all, like me finding you with your arms around me last night. Either this is a dream and that ice wine was bad or I'm a dead Tommy. Call the Toronto Star"

"The Toronto Star? Why?" Geraldine asked.

"So that they can start work on my obituary"

"No! Don’t worry Tommy. Mickey already thinks I’m a cute boy. He’s been fooled. We'll pull it off, you’ll see!" Geraldine said confidently.

"Yeah sure we will, if Mickey doesn't pull mine off first." Tommy replied sarcastically.

"C’mon, we can rehearse a bit more and get the act perfect. He’ll never know. Besides I can sing that stinky song of his, and he’ll be putty in your hands"

"I just hope the exact opposite doesn’t happen."

"You need a coffee. Plus, some eggs souffle. Eggs and good strong coffee" Geraldine got up and pulled on a T-shirt. "I’ll get some perking."

Tommy joined her in the kitchen. As the caffeine worked its magic, his brain began to clear out. One thought wouldn’t budge. Tommy couldn’t help but feel a certain thrill inside at seeing Geraldine in just boy’s undies and a T-shirt. There was a cuteness, a rebellious tomboy aura about the way she looked. The way the masculinity of the fly front of her underwear curving flat between her legs enhanced her femininity. He smiled

Geraldine noticed his stares. It made her feel good inside. Someone finally wanted her because wasn’t all girly girl.

"C’mon. Drink your coffee, and lets get to work" she ordered. "The stage awaits, and the show must go on"

Later that evening in Toronto, Geraldine and Tommy arrived at the club. Walking from the car Geraldine looked over at Tommy. "You okay, Tommy"

"At least my head isn’t pounding anymore" Tommy answered. Before entering the club he stopped.

"Wait. Look at me." He turned Geraldine around to face him. He adjusted her suit, straightened her tie, and fixed her hair. "You ready?"

"You bet. How about you?" she asked.

Tommy gulped. "I suppose."

"We’ll do it. You’ll see" Geraldine reached over and gave him a kiss. She then reached over and took Tommy’s hand and placed it in the bulge created by the balled up sock stuffed down the front of boy’s fly-front briefs.

Unbeknownst to them, Steve the leatherman was looking out a second storey window observing all the action.

Upon entering the club they went up to Mickey’s office.

"Tommy, welcome! It’s the big night. The premiere of my song." Mickey turned to Geraldine. "You do it good twinky boy, okay?"

"Sure Mickey, sure, I’ll do it good" Geraldine answered.

"Tommy, why don’t you go check out that the backstage boys have the sound right. Twinky boy and me can get to know each other"

"Oh I don’t know. We don't want Geral.., er Gerry to be all ruffled for the show."

"Don’t worry babe, I’ll be nice. Now go" Mickey ordered.

Tommy looked over at Geraldine.

"I’ll be okay, Tommy. Don’t worry" Geraldine observed.

Reluctantly Tommy left for the stage.

Mickey sat on the sofa next to Geraldine. "Okay, twinky boy. Let’s get to know each other." Mickey began to massage Geraldine’s shoulders.

"Man, you are all knots. A little pre-show jitters, maybe?" he asked.

"I suppose" Geraldine answered.

"I have just the thing. Take a few minutes out and relax in my hot tub. Just the two of us. Nice and cozy like" Mickey offered.

"Gee Mickey, I don’t know. I don’t have any other clothes."

"Ah, don’t worry boychick". Mickey got up and went into the adjacent room. When he returned he was carrying a swimmer’s jockstrap and a Speedo swimsuit.

"Here. Get undressed. You can wear these," he said as he handed them to Geraldine. She looked at the jockstrap. For the first time she felt as if she carried her deception too far. There was no denying the maleness of the garment she was about to wear."

Mickey began to undo his pants. "C’mon. We can relax in the tub together"

"I can’t Mickey. I’m, I’m a …" Geraldine began to stutter and Mickey’s eyes grew to small slits. "I’m a bit superstitious. You know, stage superstitions. I never let anyone see me change clothes before a show"

"Oh yeah. You stage folk are a bit queer in that way" Mickey pointed out then laughed. "A bit queer, geddit?" he laughed.

"Okay, I’ll change in the other room. I’ll be back in a moment"

"Whew!" thought Geraldine. "If I can stall long enough till Tommy gets back" Slowly she began to undress. She undid her tie and then unbuttoned her shirt before sitting on the chesterfield to take off her shoes and socks.

"Are you ready yet?" Mickey called out from the next room.

"Not quite" she yelled back. "Just a minute or so more."

Geraldine undid her trousers and folded them carefully next to her suit jacket. Making sure that no one was looking she pulled off her Fruit of the Looms, and folded them next to her trousers. Wearing just her athletic shirt she picked up the jockstrap.

"C’mon, twinky boy!" Mickey hollered.

Geraldine replied back. "One more minute"

Taking a deep breath she pulled the jockstrap up her legs. She adjusted the straps of her jock around the cheeks of her butt. Looking down at the sight of her flat girlish crotch in jockstrap she felt that excited feeling in her stomach again. Snapping out of it she quickly stuffed the balled up sock down the front and was pulling on the Speedo just as Mickey, wearing only a jockstrap, barged into the room.

"I couldn’t wait any longer twinky boy," he said announcing his entrance. Before she knew what was happening, Mickey began kissing her. His hand moved southward and he began rubbing the sock that made the bulge in Geraldine’s jockstrap.

Tommy opened the door to Mickey’s office and witnessed the spectacle before him. He ran to the adjacent office and alerted Steve, the leatherman.

"Steve, hurry, quick!" he yelled.

Steve burst into the room, just as Mickey fell on top of Geraldine on the couch. In one quick and deliberate move, Steve grabbed a phone book and clonked Mickey over the head with it.

"Hey! What’s that for" Mickey demanded.

"That … is for that," Steve said pointing to Geraldine. He then swung the phone book at Mickey’s head again.

"Alright already! I get the picture. Sheesh! Steve, I didn't know you cared." Mickey noted.

"Why do you think I put up with you, you big lug" Steve answered as he hugged Mickey. "There, there, I’ll make it all better"

"No more clonks with the phone book" Mickey pleaded.

"No more clonks with the phone book" Steve answered.

In the meantime Geraldine had jumped to her feet and stood next to Tommy.

"Hurry, get changed so that you can go on." He ordered as he grabbed her clothes from the sofa. He pulled her into the other room.

Geraldine pulled off the Speedo and stood in just her jockstrap sorting through her clothes for her fly-front briefs.

"My underwear. Its not here." She said frantically.

Tommy looked at her. She didn’t look half-bad in that jockstrap he thought. "They must be on the couch. No time. Just wear the jock. Hurry!"

With a fully developed sense of urgency Geraldine quickly dressed. In the other room, Steve calming down a ruffled Mickey, soothing the lump on his head.

When Geraldine finished dressed, Tommy leaned forward to give her a kiss.

"Break a leg, fella" he said.

Geraldine then grabbed him and planted a big kiss on his lips, and their tongues began to intertwine just as Mickey appeared at the doorway.

"Its showtime …hey what the …" he bellowed.

"No time." Tommy said as he grabbed Geraldine and headed toward the stage.

Turning to the soundman he ordered "Hit it!"

The lights went up and Geraldine took to the stage as the pre-recorded backing track to Mickey’s song began.

"He's a cutie, he's a beauty, a real reet-pa-tootie. He keeps me warm at night; he won't run off to fly a kite, when he leaves his butt's an awesome sight. Oh how I love that guy of mine"

She was just about to get to the chorus when Mickey ran out on stage. He was wearing only a robe and a jockstrap. A chorus of oohs and ahs rose from the audience.

"Stop the music. Hold it everyone!" he barked. "I have a very important announcement."

The audience hushed and a tense silence fell upon the club.

"I have been deceived. I have been horridly mistaken in something. Tommy, get out here. Steve, you too. Both of you, now!" Mickey demanded.

A knot grew in Tommy’s stomach. Being a support beam on a bridge on the Queen E wouldn’t be so bad, he thought.

Looking over at Tommy, Mickey continued. "My first mistake was with you Tommy, babe. I didn't know that you was one of us. And I'd never muscle in on your fella. Steve explained it all to me."

Mickey placed his arm around Tommy’s shoulders and guided him over to Geraldine. "You got a real cutie there in twinky boy. Don’t lose him."

Turning to Steve, Mickey grabbed his hand. "Start the music again" he ordered.

Mickey began his crooning his heart out in earnest, as Steve looked on with puppy dog eyes.

Tommy leaned over to Geraldine "Let’s get out of here. I can't stand it."

"I agree! Let’s get while the getting is good"

As they ran along the backstage hallway, Tommy paused, "What say we run off for the weekend. Remember my dream about doing theatre around Timmins. Well, I have I have a cottage up there. Let’s go plan our dreams."

Geraldine looked him and pouted. "I dunno, I'll have to stop at home to pick up some clothes."

"I like what you have on now" Tommy pointed out. "Besides, I hear that Wal*Mart has a sale in their men’s department this weekend, and that includes their men's Fruit of the Loom undies. There's one along the 400 in Barrie. Okay with you, Gerry, er, that is your name, isn’t it"

Geraldine giggled, "It is now."