A Christmas Party - part 3


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

Christmas Party 3

I can't remember the details of my dreams but they were pink and sparkly - full of giggles, glitter, sparkling wine and long smooth legs.
I awoke to an unfamiliar tune on a mobile phone and an arm draped around my body as someone was spooned against my back.

“Wha?...” Cathy groaned. Clearly she wasn't a morning person. Her hand groped around my chest (thankfully stuck on, things could've gotten awkward if they were real), face and finally the bedside cabinet next to my head where the phone was playing a merry tune.
“Bobbi?” Cathy's voice asked a little unsteadily after she stopped the alarm.
“Yes, Cathy?” I answered brightly. I'm not normally a morning person but I could feel adrenaline stirring me unusually this morning a combination of nerves and excitement. I had no idea what I was going to do today.
“Not a dream, then?” Cathy said, I'm not sure if she was asking me or herself.

I slipped out of bed. As I stood up I, there is no delicate way to put this, unconsciously went to 'adjust myself’ as I do most mornings.
Finding my equipment wrapped in sheer lace and my body wrapped in disheveled satin gave me a sensual thrill that my body interpreted in a very sexual manner. I let out an involuntary groan as my manhood suddenly became painfully tight within the knickers. I was shocked at the strength of that feeling. Cathy was slightly taken aback, as well.
“Well, I guess you are pleased to see me this morning!” she joked.
I was mortified, but the extreme embarrassment didn't have the desired effect, if anything the humiliation made the problem more acute.

Cathy saw my discomfort and with a grin she pointed me to the bathroom.
“Go and have a shower and take care of that thing. I'll go make some tea for us and meet you back here in 15 minutes to make a start…” she said. She tossed me the peignoir and I hurried awkwardly to the bathroom.

I'm too embarrassed to describe what I felt or what I did in the bathroom that morning, and I'm sure most of you don't want the sordid details anyway. Those of you who do want details, why don't you get a satin nighty and some knickers and try it for yourself? You may find out something unexpected about yourself, like I did.

I love dressing in women's clothing.

Afterwards, when I had showered and cleaned my teeth, I inspected myself. There wasn't much that was out of place, but I found a new disposable razor (that was pink!) and shaved my face as closely as I could. I couldn't see any stubble, but it felt smoother afterwards. Being blonde means my stubble doesn't show too much.

I left the nightie and knickers in the wash basket and headed back to Cathy's bedroom with the green sheer peignoir wrapped round me. It felt a little uncomfortable because my skin and hair were still a little damp and it stuck to me in an odd way.

Cathy caught me as she was coming up the stairs and I was on the landing.
“Oh no! That's all kinds of wrong! Get back in the bathroom!” she told me.
We went back in and she put the two mugs of tea down by the sink.
She struggled to find space as there were so many brushes and tubes and stuff around it.
Cathy took a large towel and a smaller towel from the cupboard on the landing and wrapped one round my body and one round my hair (yes I had to take the peignoir off).
She took the tea, got me to take the gown and we headed back to her room.

There she sat me down in front of a vanity on a chair, unwrapped the towel around my head and blow-dried my hair. She kept up some kind of conversation, but it was quite one-sided because I could barely hear her over the woosh of the drier and the pleasure of having someone fussing with my hair was incredibly soporific.
Before too long she had finished and I was woken up with a shock.
“C’mon, off with the towel, then” Cathy said brightly.
“Do you often ask men to strip naked in your bedroom?” I asked, cheekily.
“If I see a man in this room, you can be sure he will soon be naked!” Cathy laughed “Now c'mon! We haven't got time to face around!”

Despite leaving the 'spanx’ that Lucy gave me off all night, one of my testicles was still up inside my body, which was an odd feeling. But not as odd as trying to find the way to pop the other one back in. It's kind of hard to describe… Cathy got me to lie on my back, naked, legs bent at the knees and raised while it tried to find the tube inside my body to gently coax my testicles back into. Have you ever seen those finger trap mesh tube things? It feels a bit like trying to squeeze a large grape into one of those. It was kind of satisfying when it nestled into place but a bit nerve wracking and uncomfortable while I was trying to find the right way to do it. With my boss trying to help. Awkward. And humiliating.

Still, once I'd done that and tugged the spanx into place a new confidence filled me. No one would believe I was a guy. If anyone could see me like this, almost naked as I was, they would know that I was female.

What a strange thing to give me confidence.

Cathy handed me a matching set of bra and panties in a pink lace and I slipped them on, she adjusted the straps on the bra and I felt even more girly. She showed me how to put the tights on, although I could probably have figured it out for myself. The waistband of the tights came up well above the waistband of my knickers. The tights were opaque and a dark brown colour, not quite black. All the while we were doing this Cathy and I were talking softly. I couldn't tell you what we said, it was kind of a background buzz, soothing my nerves as she talked me through putting on the unfamiliar clothing.

She sat me down and draped a towel around my shoulders. She got me to position the chair so the light was on my face and she started putting makeup on me. She explained each step as she went, foundation, blusher eyeliner, mascara. Eyeliner was scary, but mascara was scarier, as she got me to keep my eyes open without blinking as she waved a black bristled brush millimetres from my eyeball.
Cathy primped me and painted me, it felt nice to have someone look after me and pamper me like that.

Eventually she said “That'll do, for now. Let's get you dressed!”
She handed me a dusky pink suit on hangers, a blouse…
“Oh! You'll need a slip with that skirt and those tights!” she exclaimed and she hurried to a chest of drawers and got a white satiny-looking skirt thing.
Cathy said “I've got to start getting myself ready! Will you be alright getting that on? Oh! Shoes! Size 6?”
“I think so” I replied.
She grabbed some shoes from the bottom of the wardrobe and put them by the bed, without another word she grabbed a few bits and ran from the room. I heard the bathroom door click shut with a very positive click and some muffled cursing that sounded like Becky.

I decided to put on the slip, blouse, skirt and jacket - in that order. I tried the shoes on and they were a surprisingly good fit. They were black lace ups with a slight heel, classic and conservative. I looked in the cupboard where Cathy had found them. There were some boots, which looked interesting and some court shoes and strappy sandals. I did think about trying something else on, but I wasn't sure what Cathy would think. Before I could make up my mind, Cathy rushed back into the room and did all the things to herself that had taken her an hour in about three minutes. She didn't need to dry her hair, apparently, and she knew where everything was.

“Accessories!” She cried “What have you been doing while I was washing?”
“Looking at your boots…” I replied.
“Yeah, such a girl!” Cathy laughed “Right, girly, what bag shall we give you?”
It was clearly a rhetorical question.

Cathy tossed me a necklace and a watch and went to look in the top of her wardrobe. She grabbed a large floppy black leather handbag and started stuffing things in it.

I put the necklace on, but I didn't bother with the watch. I always used the clock on my phone.
I saw Cathy was putting tampons and sanitary towels in the bag. I guess they were some sort of protective camouflage. She also threw in a purse, my phone and a bunch of other things from the bag I had last night.

“Right!” she said, as she handed me the bag “Normally I would have a cup of tea and go, but I don’t think we will have time… you really want to get in early today, I think.”
“Why would today be differ… oh, right...But...why do I want to be early?” I asked.
“Do you want to walk past everyone, as the five minute wonder, dressed like that?” Cathy asked.
“Well...I don’t think many people would recognise me, they barely recognised me when I was dressed as a guy!” I said.
“Hmm, that may have been true before, but now? I think you have a rude awakening when you realise just how much extra scrutiny women are under in the workplace. Plus, you are pretty, which is going to make people’s view suddenly become much more polarised. You are going to make all the men, and maybe some of the women, question their own sexuality, and yours, and that kind of thing tends to make people… volatile, from experience.” Cathy said.
“From experience? You’ve employed transvestites before?” I asked, a little snidely.
“Transvestite? Where did that come from?” Cathy asked.
“Isn’t that the word for a man who dresses like a woman? I’m sure Eddie Izzard said that’s what he was, when he explained it?” I said.
“Hmm, I think it may be a little early to start trying to name what it is that you are doing...Let’s just call it ‘a laugh’ for now and get through the day?” Cathy said.
I nodded and Cathy urged me out the door. We went downstairs to find almost everyone else was dressed and ready to go. They all had mugs of tea. I know Cathy had prepared us drinks but I hadn’t had time to drink mine, and neither had she, I think.

“Right, she finally makes a showing, let’s look at you then!” said Becky.
I did a hokey little pirouette, as I turned I wondered where Jordan was. I really wanted to see her face and know what she thought of this outfit, and me in this outfit. She arrived behind me as I finished my turn and wolf-whistled.
“Wow, is that ‘office Barbie’ my girlfriend?” she asked, with a cheeky grin.

She was wearing a more casual outfit, still with a skirt, as Fiona had said, we were both so much taller than her that her trousers would have looked odd on us. But, where I was wearing tights, Jordan had knee high socks with pink ribbon bows on the top and mary-janes with a heel, a short denim skirt and a tank top and cropped hoodie. She looked like a porn-star pretending to be a school girl.
“It’s classic.” I said simply.
“Yeah, I think you got the better end of the deal, Fiona chose this for me, it’s not my normal style.” Jordan said.
“Well, the taxi will be here any second, so you better say your goodbyes.” Claire said.

Jordan and I checked that we had each other’s numbers on our phones then Jordan grabbed me and kissed me the same way she had last night.

Cathy broke us up after less than a minute.
“Thanks, Jordan, now you’ve messed up the makeup I spent all morning on!” Cathy said
Jordan said “Sorry, not sorry!”
Claire giggled.

Cathy fished out the lipstick she had used earlier from my bag and helped me touch it up. Jordan took a mirror from her bag and did the same.

The doorbell rang and Cathy started ushering us all out of the house, including Jordan.
“Are you going to be alright?” I asked Jordan “Do you need us to drop you somewhere?”
“I’m alright,” she said “one of the lads from the garage is already on his way.”
“I thought you said they weren’t working?” I said.
“No. I said I wasn’t working! One of the perks of the owner being my Dad!” Jordan said with a chuckle.
“Come on!” said Cathy “Unless you want to walk, get your cute little ass in the flippin’ taxi!”
“Bye!” I said to Jordan as I hurried to get in.
“Bye sweetie!” she said.
Becky slammed the door and we were off, I could see Jordan with her arms wrapped around herself shivering as we drove off.

“What about my car?” I asked Cathy.
“Becky will give you a lift to pick it up tonight, if you want.” Cathy said. Becky nodded as she said this.
“Are you sure you want to drive while you’re dressed like this?” asked Fiona.
“Whyever not?” I asked.
“Well, I’m pretty sure the photo on your driving licence doesn’t look anything like you now!” said Becky.
“Does anyone’s driving licence photo look like them?” I asked.
Everyone chuckled and shook their heads.
“Anyway,” I carried on “it’s not as though it’s illegal to wear womens’ clothes, otherwise half of you would have been arrested by now!”
“Technically true” Cathy agreed “but not everyone will see it that way. Nevermind, call me if it happens and we’ll rally political support for you!”
“Political support?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” said Becky “we can get them to release you or sue them for trans-phobia and whatnot!”
“I'm not a political activist or militant transvestite, I'm just trying to make it through the day and get these tits off so I can get back to normal!” I said.
“Yeah, I'm not sure any of us are buying that. You look too comfortable and you pass too well for that to be the end of it. Plus, I'm pretty sure your lesbian girlfriend will have something to say about whether you end up wearing girls' clothes or not!” Claire said.
I couldn't really argue with that. The comment about me looking so natural, as a girl, should have been an insult but it sparked a small glow of vanity and pride. Damn it, I did look good like this!

-x-x-

The journey to work didn't take long at all. I think we could have walked it. But maybe not in heels.
We got out of the taxi as Cathy paid. Cathy hissed at me as I tried to climb down “Bobbi, dear...keep your knees together!”
Oops. I blushed. Not that anyone could see anything, there was more material between my nether-regions and the outside world than I normally wore, but it was the appearance that counted.

We came into the reception and went to go our separate ways. I had a bit of a moment when I couldn't think where my door pass was, but everyone else was reaching into their handbags and it struck me where it might at be.
It took a little hunting, but I found it in my purse and went to let myself through. Cathy was waiting for me, which I was grateful for. But so was Becky.

“I think you should come with me now and we’ll sort you out a new ID card.” Becky said.
“I don’t think I need a new ID card for one day, surely!” I protested.
“You may as well humour her.” Cathy said “It won’t take more than a few minutes and it will give you a story to tell your grandchildren!”
“Sure, I guess we have a few minutes before the crowd get here. Let’s go.” I said. I realised when I was fighting a losing battle. Now, more than ever, my life was in the hands of my line manager and HR. I guess I never really stopped to think how much soft power these people held over me until I was walking into HR in a pink skirt suit.

Still, it didn’t appear that Becky was out to humiliate me, or anything. In fact, she took the best ID photo that I ever had in my life. It didn’t look like me (when do they ever) it looked better than me. I had a gentle smile and dewey lips. Wow.

I hurried back to the IT department with my new ID card round my neck on one of the lanyards that all of the other girls used. Some of the guys used them and some had their ID clipped to their belt. I used to have a belt clip.

It was only when I was halfway back that I realised I had left my old ID in HR. Oh well, I thought to myself, I could always get another one.

I got back to my desk to find a cup of coffee waiting for me. Cathy smiled as I sat down opposite her.
“Ready for the standup?” she asked me.
“There's no chance of skipping it for a day?” I asked, trying not to whine.
“I think you would only paint a target on your back. Don't let them smell fear, own this and they will back down first, I'm sure. Or… I hesitate to suggest this, it's a weapon of last resort…” she paused dramatically “you could always try crying. Men hate making a pretty girl cry!”
“Thanks for the advice, I am gaining valuable insight into how 'the other half’ operates.” I said.
“Yeah, pity for you it's not so much 'the other half’ now and more other girls.” Cathy retorted “Anyway, time to do this…”

She stood up and I, and the rest of the development team, went into 'Meeting Room 1’ for our morning meeting. I followed immediately behind her, with the rest of the team coming in behind me as they saw Cathy go in to the meeting room. These meetings were so much a part of our daily routine now that there was no need for any kind of announcement.

As I went over to stand next to Cathy I was vaguely aware of some of the guys asking each other ‘who the new girl’ was. I wasn’t too worried, I had our boss and HR on my side, I thought.

Cathy started “Ok, some of you have noticed the new girl in the room, some of the more observant of you may have noticed Bob Smith isn’t with us today. I’ve spoken with Ms Smith about why she is dressed this way today and I understand and applaud her reasons. Let that be an end to it and please, don’t give her a hard time about it unless you are prepared for me to give you a very hard time in return! I don’t want to hear any more about this. Mark, you can start…”

And with that the meeting was off to a start and no one dared say a word. It was bizarre. I stood there straight-backed with my head held high next to Cathy and none of the guys would meet my eyes. Several took sideways looks at my legs, ass and tits - they were guys after all.

After the meeting was over and we had all gone round the table in turn and briefly discussed what we did yesterday and what we would be doing today everybody returned to their desks as if everything was normal.

It all felt, bizarrely, normal.

I went to get my first coffee of the morning and I offered to get Cathy one too. Kieran looked like he was trying to gather the courage to make some sarky comment that could have been career-limiting, given Cathy's comments earlier. He saw Cathy watching me as I went towards the kitchen and, apparently, thought better of what he was going to say.

Mark was in the kitchen when I got there. There was an awkward silence between us. I’d often been a little tongue-tied around Mark, he was… imposing, I guess. Everything masculine that I wasn’t, tall, lean with dark hair and muscles and perpetual stubble. He always looked just a little bit disreputable, even though he was genuinely a nice guy. Normally Mark was outgoing where I was shy and we got along ok. Now, there was a tension in the air, I’m not sure what it was. He seemed… nervous?

I said "Hi”, and went to make my drinks.
He took a step back and let me get on with it. He was stood behind me while I was getting the coffee from the cupboard over the sink. Someone came in as I was stretching up to get the coffee, even with the heels I was wearing I was still too short to reach it easily. I saw Dave coming in as I glanced round at the noise of the door and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark look away with a strange expression on his face. He almost looked like he was starting to blush.

I said “Hi” to Dave and hurried to get back to making the drinks. I glanced round at Mark again and that was when I figured it out. Oh shit, he was checking me out! Judging by the slight bulge in his crotch and the way he was looking he really liked the way I looked now
.
I wasn't sure how I felt about a guy I knew adding me to his 'wank bank’, but my body seemed to come alive. My breath was a little short and I stood a little straighter without any conscious thought. Did I fancy Mark now? That was a disturbing thought as I realised what was happening.

Dave asked “So, is this a permanent change?”
“It started as a kind of dare gone wrong, but the longer I'm stuck like this, the more natural it feels” I admitted, probably over-sharing.
I picked up my mugs, ready to head for the door.

Mark moved forward to carry on making his drinks his hand brushed my back as he moved to step around me and his touch startled me so that I nearly spilled my drinks.

I headed back to my desk with my mind whirling. How was I going to get through the day like this if every chance meeting became a minefield of sexual tension?

I gave a mental shrug. It was bound to be weird at first, I guess. If any of the other men in the office had come in wearing women's clothes before now, I'm pretty sure I would have stared. I don't think I would have been turned on, though. That was just weird. But my response to it was normal, we all like to be admired, right?

As the rest of the day went on I increasingly forgot about how I was dressed. The first time I got up to go to the loo Cathy reminded me to go to the ladies.
“I'll come with you, just to check the coast is clear.” she said.

She ushered me to the ladies, I wasn't sure what the problem was with me going in a cubicle in the Gents loo, but Cathy put her foot down when I suggested it saying it would be too much of a distraction.

There aren't too many women on our floor so I wasn't too bothered when Cathy ushered me in. I was more bothered when she took the cubicle next to me and… well, you know...went.
It took me longer to get the layers down than it took her, so, when I finished she was waiting for me by the sink. I could hear her washing her hands while I was peeing, which was kind of distracting. But I was so relieved when I released myself that I managed to go anyway.
She'd made me take my bag, which I thought was weird. When I came out she got me to wash my hands first (I was insulted, I am always very fastidious about that) then she took my bag and helped me “freshen up” my lipstick. She impressed on me the need to check myself in the mirror before heading out and to check my knickers were up with no paper and my skirt was down and not tucked in my knickers and I didn't have anything stuck to my shoe.
“This is why women go to the toilet in groups?” I asked.
“On dates? Don't be silly, we go to share jokes about the guys.” Cathy said.
“I have a lot to learn.” I replied.
“Oh?” Cathy's ears pricked up “You've decided to come over to the pink side?”
“Er… I'm not sure that's entirely my choice. Jordan seems to have some strong views!” I said.
“Yes, she is a very...forthright lady,” Cathy said, “but you only met her last night! Most guys wouldn't…” she tailed off as I gave her a flat stare.
“Most guys wouldn't let their bosses talk them into dressing as a girl and going into work? Are you calling me a 'girly-boy’?” I said, fiercely, but in a higher pitched voice than usual.
Cathy cracked up, she was still laughing as she led me out of the toilets. We nearly bumped into Joyce as she was coming in.
“Oh!” she said, doing a double-take as she failed to recognise me. Then the penny dropped.
“Bob?!” she said “What on Earth are you doing in here?! And dressed like that?!”
“Company policy, Joyce, if you are presenting as a woman, you use the women's toilets. Check with HR.” Cathy said, as she led me away “c'mon, Bobbi, back to work!”
I made a little fingertip wave to Joyce and mouthed “Sorry!” to her as we went. Joyce stood in the doorway of the toilets gaping like a goldfish.

I got back to my desk and settled down to code. I had a few questions for Cathy about 30 minutes later, I didn't think anything of it, but she seemed, nicer, somehow. More relaxed and forthcoming and willing to explain things.
About 30 minutes after that I'd finished the thing I was working on and I decided to take the opportunity to discuss it with the end-user who created the original request.
I spoke with Cathy about it and she thought it was a great idea to get some early feedback so I rang Brian, explained that I was the developer working on his issue and asked if I could talk with him about it. Brian agreed, somewhat grumpily, I thought. I grabbed my laptop and set off to find him.

The girl sat at the desk near the door in the finance team was lovely, she pointed me in the right direction then led me over to introduce me to Brian. Brian was a senior accountant and I expected him to be a bit dry, but I didn't expect him to be so rude.
“Yes? What is it, girl? I'm a busy man you know!” he said.
“Er, I'm Bobbi, the developer, we spoke on the phone?” I said. I wasn't sure I had the right guy, he didn't seem like someone finally getting what he'd asked for.
“Are you an intern or something? Didn't they have a real programmer?” he said.
“Well, that's very flattering that you think I look so young. You know what they say: ‘if you want something done on a computer, give to someone young’” I said.
“And I suppose you think I'm too old and set in my ways to use a computer?!” he snapped.
“Huh?” I did a double-take, how did this get to be about him? “I'm sorry, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. How about I just show you what I have for you?”
“Very well…” he said, and just sat there waiting with his arms crossed as I setup.
Fortunately I'd set everything up ready to demonstrate on my laptop, the WiFi connection worked seamlessly, for once, and because I'd just been writing the code, and I'd had the foresight to run through the demo twice, everything worked flawlessly and I side-stepped one or two areas written by other developers that I knew weren't 'ready for primetime’ yet, so I didn't distract the user with irrelevancies.

Brian insisted on looking at these irrelevant bits, though. He called me a stupid girl (under his breath) because I couldn't answer questions about areas that were completely outside what I was working on. He even called me names when I tried to defend my colleagues who weren't there to answer his vitriol. In short, he was mean to me. I felt my eyes begin to blur at the injustice of this dinosaur making up BS to make me feel bad. What the hell?!

I made my excuses and left, fled would be more accurate.. I caught the eye of the girl I spoke to on the way in and the pity in her eyes, even with the smile of solidarity, almost finished me.
I made it to the loos before I lost it. I wept to myself quietly for a few minutes. All the while I had flashbacks to how I should have spoken to Brian. Comebacks and put downs. At the same time I despised myself for being weak. Mostly for letting the side down. I was too pathetic to be a girl. I always had this reaction to injustice and unwarranted criticism that I couldn't respond to. It made me furious and embarrassed in equal measure that I couldn't keep a lid on my emotions and they just boiled over sometimes. But, how had Brian pushed my buttons like that? Normally only my Mum could get that kind of response from me.

I came out of the cubicle and surveyed the wreckage of my face in the mirror. Shit.
There was nothing I could do, I didn't have the tools or the knowledge to repair this level of damage. I rang Cathy, hating myself for being this pathetic.
“Cathy?...” I said tentatively.
“Oh my god! What's wrong?” Cathy said.
Did I really sound so pathetic that she could tell over the phone?
“Aw hell… Brian was mean to me and I started crying and now I'm stuck in the loos on the second floor looking like someone from Kiss. Can you help me patch up the damage?” I asked.
“I’ll be right there” Cathy said and the phone went dead.

A short while later I heard the door to the loos open and someone walked in, I came out of the cubicle to find, not Cathy, but the girl who had directed me to Brian.
“Oh!” she said, when she saw my face.
“I know, I must look a fright...it’s so silly, it’s just been a kind of emotional roller-coaster of a day and Brian…” I sighed “He pushed my buttons, I guess. I let him get under my skin, I don’t know why, I’m not normally like this…” I trailed off.
“No. You’re normally a guy, right?” she said as she held out her hand “Hi, I’m Karen, I’m so sorry about Brian”.

Just then, Cathy came in, she took one look at my face and stepped over to sweep me into a hug. I felt another pair of arms round my neck and before I knew it I was in a group hug in the ladies toilets.

Cathy took charge, in a 'no nonsense’ way, all “no point worrying over spilled milk” and “the best way to show him is to look amazing” the aphorisms coming thick and fast.
Karen was much more conciliatory, “I don't know how you kept it together, he was horrible to you” she said, as she redid my makeup.
Did I mention that Karen was beautiful? If I had been in a suit, single and not in the ladies loos I would have been compelled to make an ass of myself trying to get her attention. I think she was probably a natural beauty, she had great bone-structure, high cheekbones and wide-set eyes. But, in addition to that she had flawless makeup, slightly overdone for my test, but she was clearly an artist. When I looked in the mirror it took my breath away. When I had come into work this morning I had a 'girl next door, at the office’ kind of look. Now I looked like a classy, elegant Ice Queen. I sucked my cheeks in slightly, to see the effect. Wow. I looked like a Karen in training.
“Oh yes, now that's the face we show to Brian!” Cathy enthused.
“It's nearly lunchtime” Karen said “Why don't you give me five minutes and come up and meet me for lunch? I'm pretty sure Brian will feel sorry for ever giving you cause to disdain his company!” She gave a feral grin that was slightly disturbing on such a pretty face.
“Thank you so much, Karen. It looks amazing. You've been so kind…” I said.
“...But you're wondering why a complete stranger would help a transvestite she doesn't know?” Karen filled in.
“Well, I wouldn't have put it that way but...yes” I said meekly.
“You have chosen a hard path. The fact that you're pretty won't make it any easier, we women have got to learn to stick together!” Karen said firmly.
“Here, here!” said Cathy. She held out her hand to Karen and they solemnly shook on it.
We all trooped out of the toilets and Cathy and I went to get our coats.
I said to Cathy in a bewildered whisper “Karen said I was pretty?”
“And now she made you beautiful, sweetie!” said Cathy.