Primpers

Primpers
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Brandon’s mother was desperate and so she called on him to help.

“I have a property just listed for a quick sale and it is a mess,” she said. “I can sell it as “a handyman’s delight” but it just needs some tidying up inside. Just a little primping to show it off a bit. Could you help me, Brandon? I will pay you out of the sales commission.”

It was not like he really had a choice. His mom was supporting him while he considered his options after high school graduation, and he knew how tough it was to be a commission-only realtor in their town.

“If it’s a big job I might be able to get Noah to help,” he said. His friend was in the same position as him. Noah’s mother ran a small clothing boutique and was putting her son under some pressure to at least find a job.

Somehow when they turned up at the property something just seemed to click.

“We have to pull down these curtains and get some more light in here,” said Brandon.

“This furniture is arranged badly, and maybe I could get some of my mother’s fabric and throw it over that big couch to add some color,” said Noah.

“I have another property to check out,” said Brandon’s mother, fidgeting with her phone. “Why don’t I leave you too boys to sort this place out and come back in an hour or two to see what you have done. You just do what you think will work to make this house look like a better place to live in.”

The boys had the good sense to photograph the place before they started, just so they could put everything back if she didn’t approve, and then they went to work.

Brandon and Noah seemed to know what to do, and they set about clearing away items of junk that they though made the house look smaller and darker. Noah borrowed his mother’s garment van to collect the fabric he wanted, and they used it to store the items they had removed. When they were finished they looked at their work with some pride.

“I think this place looks great,” said Brandon. “Like, worth much more money, don’t you think?”

Brandon’s mother certainly thought so. She was amazed when she returned, and even more amazed when the house was sold less than a week later well in excess of the estimated value her boss had put on it. She was keen to use the boys again, and she was happy to pay them well.

“We’re good at this,” said Noah. “Do you think we could make a business out of this? I mean, there is a lot of property being bought and sold, and your mother is not the only realtor around.”

“It would just be a case of putting together some before and after shots and putting it in a portfolio to send out to all the realty companies,” said Brandon. “We would be offering a service as house primpers. But we would need a name for the business. Any ideas?”

“What about ‘Two Men’?” said Noah “That is what we are. That could be the name of the business. Like two men can do anything. We could use it on our profile, our business cards, and maybe some merchandise to sit in realtors office to remind them that they have an option – you know the thing – coffee mugs, mouse pads, dashboard phone holders.”

“That sounds expensive,” said Brandon. “Neither of us has much money.”

“Hey, we have no need of an office or any tools except my mother’s van that we can borrow,” said Noah. “We can go into debt to market ourselves. Without customers for our services, there is no business.”

They did two more houses for Brandon’s mother, with similar successful outcomes, so they put that all into putting together the ‘Two Men’ promotional material and merchandise. They put together a complete list of realtors for their town, and prepared packages for each of them just awaiting the contents.

But when the boxes arrived, they discovered that there had been a horrendous mistake. In all of the material instead of reading “Two Men” it read “T Women”. Emblazoned on everything were the words “T Women can do anything”.

They called the supplier, but after a lengthy argument they were forced to concede that the rough outline they had provided in all capitals, could have be taken either way.

“You just have to make do with what you have,” they suggested. “We can do another run but you will have to pay the same price again. You have some great material here, and it would be a shame for you to throw out such a big investment.

“What do we do?” cried Noah. “We have no more money, and we are ready to work. We need to launch the website twomencan.com.”

“You mean T women can,” said Brandon. “That means that, like, transgender women. That is not what we are. But the money has gone. I think we can work with this like they suggested. It doesn’t matter what we look like – it only matters that we deliver a quality service. What the hell, maybe as transwomen we might get some diversity hires?”

Brandon’s mother had to laugh when they told her.

“This shows the importance of being accurate when you are in business,” she said. “If I make mistakes like that in my business it could cost millions. Your lesson is learned. At least until you get started and can rebrand, it looks like you two have to sell your services as transwomen. Lucky for you, both of you are around my size and I have plenty of clothes you could borrow.”

“Mom, I thought we would maybe just turn up in overalls and with a wig on and maybe some lipstick,” said Brandon. “We don’t have to be successful transgirl, like passing as women and stuff, because when we get to work it doesn’t matter if we are male or female.”

“You boys really have no idea,” she said. “You have to sell your service, and you are not going to sell that in overalls. If your business is primping, as you call it, then to convince people that you can make a house look great, you have to be able to do that to yourselves.”

But the site had already launched. Twomencan.com was clearly selling the services of more than one transwoman.

The site had only been up for a day when they received their first inquiry. An organization called “Transunities” that had the stated purpose of “assisting trans persons setting up in business” was offering to promote the business of “T women can.”

“We are getting ourselves too deep into this,” said Noah. “What are we going to do now.”

Brandon’s mother suggested that they go to see her hairdresser Cherry, and at a time when she was not too busy and able to chat. It so happened that she was a transwoman and always ready to help others. The boys decided to go round to see her at the time arranged

“Pretending to be trans when you are not is not something that I approve of,” said Cherry. “But I never like to miss the chance to transform somebody from male to female, so if you boys would like to take a chair let me get started.”

Brandon was going to say that they were just there to talk, but it seemed awkward to walk away and confirm her disapproval. The boys looked at one another and then each took a chair.

“You both have enough hair for me to work with,” said Cherry. “Wigs are for bald people or drag queens. Transgirls use their own hair. Brandy, I think we’ll go red for you, and Nora – blonde I think.”

That was the names that were used and they would stick. By the end of the day it was Brandy and Nora who stumbled out, plucked and prettied, and with stern instructions as to how to behave to preserve the reputation of transgender persons everywhere. They were still wearing their Twomencan overalls but with bodies stripped of hair beneath and feminine heads poking out of their collars.

“Actually, you look really good, Noah,” said Brandy.

“Thanks, Brandy, but you had better call me Nora. And you look good too.”

As Brandy’s mother had suggested, they accepted her choice of proper women’s clothes to wear instead of the overalls for the opening toll for clients. She had plenty of suitable items from boutique stock on hand that would give the fashionable yet businesslike look required. They would have to cover the whole town and that meant borrowing her van again, and using the magnetic signs on the sides that were among the items purchased carrying the “Twomencan” logo. The new T women would need to put together bundles for every realtor in town, not just to be dropped off, but presented appropriately.

Brandy was forced by this disaster, to make urgent adjustments, but she was up to it. They set off in the van to make deliveries and they rehearsed the new presentation as they went.

“We are Brandy and Nora and we are transwomen offering what we call a primping service to get a better price from the realty you sell.” Brandy started to pitch for their first stop. “If you let us prepare the homes that you are selling before you arrange open viewings or visits by potential buyers, we will ensure that the property is presented in the best possible light. We can show you testimonials. Agents we have worked with have shown us that you can add value even by addressing small features if you know what is wrong.”

Not every realtor had time to get the full pitch but anybody who had time to listen did, and every office accepted the package of promotional material and passed around the contacts. They had their first call while they were still in the van well before they had covered all the places they were to visit.

Brandy had to concede that actually being two transwomen might be a good selling point.

“I think they believe that we are older than we are – that works for us,” said Brandy. “The women treat us like women and the men … well, I guess some of them think of us as exotic and interesting.”

“Actually, at that last place one of the guys asked me whether I might go on a date with him,” said Nora. “Of course, I didn’t say yes, but I kind of liked being asked.”

“Getting propositioned is something a guy doesn’t think about,” said Brandy. “How are we supposed to deal with that? I suppose we could say that we are not into men – like we are translesbians?”

“We could do that, but when we are looking for jobs I wouldn’t want to slam the door in a guy’s face like that,” said Nora. “The fact is that the guy who asked me out has our number, and he told me that he did the best volume of sales in the whole office.”

“This could be difficult, but it could be fun,” said Brandy.

They both laughed. They had resolved to take the whole thing as an opportunity born out of a mistake that they should just run with. And there was something about being dressed up as women that made them feel relaxed and a little adventurous.

But the following day, it was down to business. They had a house that needed their attention, and Nora even suggested that it might need “a feminine touch”.

“I feel qualified to do that now,” said Nora. “For some reason spending yesterday as a girl gave me a new appreciation of color and style.”

“Actually, I feel the same way,” said Brandy. “How weird.” But Brandy was checking herself out in the mirror. She was wearing her overalls but had her colored hair tied back with a colorful bandana and was wearing a little eye makeup and lipstick – she was still a T woman.

Nora too, had maintained that look, plus under the overalls she was wearing ladies’ underwear and a crop top, for no other reason than it just seemed right.

They had a full appointment book and were busy for the rest of that week and the week after. Better yet, the results of their work was becoming recognized. If some of the realtors had doubts before, offers in excess of the estimates based on original assessment on listing, proved the point in hard cash.

Demand was rising, and it seemed that Twomencan would need to invest in their own vehicle and some storage capacity for excess furniture that they had discovered was the best way to improve a property – declutter for the purposes of sale. They had found an old building that would do the job and it happened to have space above for a small apartment – space where they could apply their primping skills and a few furniture items that property sellers had decided were not needed. Brandy and Nora were both living with their parents so the time had come to move away, and leave behind their male wardrobes … for the time being.

They had also paid Cherry for the original makeover she had done for them and were now regulars at her salon, making a time early in the morning so they looked fabulous for client visits before getting down to the physical work before and after lunch.

After a few weeks they had a visit from Tula and Holly, women from Trastunities, the trans support group. They had a couple of jobs put their way by this group, but the purpose of this visit was to ask for something in return.

“It is tough for young transgirls to find rewarding work when going through transition,” said Tula. “Not everybody can be a male chorus girl and we want to keep our sisters off the streets. So, we were wondering if you might help by giving Holly here, a job. You would be doing a service to all those who share our problems, but of course, Holly would have to perform.’

Holly seemed quiet and feminine, but she was large. While not unattractive as a girl, with long brown hair, it would be difficult for Holly to fit in until she was confident. Brandy and Nora looked at one another and nodded – they needed somebody to help with heavy lifting. So they said yes.

“Holly is also looking for a place to stay, so perhaps with your connections in real estate you might be able to help there too,” said Tula.

“Short term she could stay in our apartment,” said Nora.

Brandy glared at her with disapproval, for reasons explained later when it was already too late.

“You know what this means – there is no dropping the transwoman thing while Holly is around. We have to present as female at all times. We don’t want Transtunities and all the TG community knowing that Twomencan is based on a lie.”

“Hey Brandy, it’s no problem,” said Nora. “We dress gender-neutral off work – maybe just need to keep up the girly voices.” But they both knew that it would be more.

As it turned out, Holly was a good worker and an even better roommate, but she was totally committed to her transition. She knew very well that hers would be an uphill battle, but her sense of her own real sex was so strong that she longed every moment to put it right.

“You two are so lucky to be small and pretty,” she said. “And successful – an example to anybody with gender dysphoria. I will make you my models of success.”

“I told you that this would not be a good idea,” said Brandy. Holly was in the bathroom sitting down to pee with the door closed, something they all now had to do. “She asked me what hormone therapy I was on yesterday.”

“What are you using?” said Nora. “I got my prescription a few weeks ago.”

“You’re kidding,” snapped Brandy. “I am not taking anything, and you shouldn’t be either.”

“They just make me feel so good,” said Nora wistfully. “They make me feel on the inside how I look on the outside.”

“They will do things to you,” said Brandy. “I mean look at Cherry – her breast and butt are all from hormones, and her hair too.”

“Yes, I have noticed that with my hair too,” mused Nora. “I would like to grow it at least half way down my back. Craig loves long hair.”

“Who the hell is Craig?!” said Brandy.

“You know – he is the guy I mentioned wanted to date me – the top sales guy,” said Nora. “I went out with him Saturday night, and he wants to take me out again tomorrow.”

“But where will that lead?” said Brandy.

“He knows what I am – our business is called T women, remember?”

“What are you, Noah?” For the first time in months Brandy had used that other name – deliberately misgendering her business partner and best friend.

“I am a transwoman, just like you,” hissed Nora, as they heard the toilet flush down the hall.

“I’m just pretending,” whispered Brandy. “This was an accident - the T women thing – just until we get the chance to …”. Brandy stopped. Holly had gone into her room and closed the door, but that was not the reason why Brandy stopped talking.

“I know you Brandy,” said Nora. “I see the way you look at yourself. You are the same as me, even if you might not be attracted to men the way I am.

“You are wrong, Nora!” the right name was restored. “At least about one thing. I am attracted to men. Now, how did you get the hormone prescription?”

At last she felt able to walk over to the mirror right in front of Nora, run her hand through her red curls and primp a little.

The End
3025

© Maryanne Peters 2025

Author’s Note: With thanks to Typsie Tinker for this idea – “two men receive their shipment of promotional merchandise to advertise their business. They discover that a typo on the order form changed everything. Instead of "Two Men", all of the merchandise is labelled "T Women". Since they can't afford to reorder the entire shipment, they have to figure out how to make it work, and mayhem ensues …”. I know all about typos, but this is a doozie!