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The Podium Sissy

Janet sniggered and said
“It must be so boring being a boy…
it’s nothing but jeans and
T shirts
and trousers
and shirts
and jumpers
and jeans
and trousers
and shirts
or a jumper and jeans and…
if I was a guy I’d be campaigning for equality in clothing rights
and demanding my right to wear a skirt or a dress and high-heeled shoes!”
“Nah you wouldn’t…
you’d be thinking;
Yey, I don’t to get up half an hour earlier to do my hair and make-up…
I’m glad I’m a guy and don’t have to bother with all that every day.”
I suggested as she finished applying my make-up.
“This is fun as a one-off but doing it daily must be a bit of a chore.”
“Yeah, it is a bit…
but don’t you feel short-changed as a boy?
Us girls can wear whatever we like whenever we like
you’ve only got a choice of long or short pants and long or short sleeves.”
“It’s not quite that simple though.
Can you go to work without wearing make-up?” I rhetorically asked.
“…and plenty of offices still insist on women wearing skirts and heels.
It was on Woman’s Hour a couple of weeks ago and Jenny Murray was saying that it’s not just the skirts and heels,
it’s the extra twenty minutes doing their hair and make-up every morning.”
“You listen to Woman’s Hour?!” my sister quizzed.
“Not religiously…
it’s just on every morning and I often catch a bit of it.” I claimed
forget working…
what about going out ’round town?” she suggested.
“I can wear ripped jeans and a skinny tee and you’d get turned away from most bars if you wore jeans and a T shirt.
They’d be like sorry mate too casual.” she said, mimicking a man’s voice quite convincingly.
“Us girls can be casual, smart, plain, pretty or tarty and we wouldn’t get turned away from anywhere…
But you guys get turned away unless you’re wearing smart shoes, trousers and a shirt.”
“Yeah I know what you mean,” I replied.
“The rock bars are a lot more relaxed when it comes to the dress code.”
“They’re a lot more relaxed when it comes to hygiene too!” Janet sneered.
“Right… I think that’s you just about done,” she said,
stepping back and replacing the lid of the eyebrow pencil.
“Can I see now?” I asked.
“Be my guest,” she said, gesturing to the full-length mirror leaned up against the wall.
I timidly stepped in front of the mirror and slowly raised my eyes.
My jaw dropped after a short sharp intake of breath.
“Blimey Janet… I look just like a girl!” I gasped.
“…and my legs look so long!”
“Your legs look amazing…
I’m well jell!” my sister gushed.
“Shaving them was absolutely the right decision.”
“Yeah.” I sighed.
We’d tried just a pair of nude tights but my squished-up leg hair beneath them was far too obvious.
“I can’t believe what you’ve done to my face…
I really don’t look like me at all!”
“It’s amazing what can be achieved with make-up.” she grinned as she stepped to my side.
“…and a pair of socks,” she added,
My sister giggled as I turned my head this way and that.
The coiled plait on the back has been clipped on to my own, shorter hair.
“My hair looks really convincing…
that hairpiece looks really real.”
“I must say I’m quite impressed myself with that,” she said.
“How do your ears feel?”
“Still a bit sore,” I replied.
“It’s weird when they bag against my neck,” I added.
“I quite like wearing big earrings because of that.
When you’re just wearing studs or sleepers, you forget they’re there.” Janet replied.
“Although you really should be wearing a pair of studs until they’ve healed properly.”
“Well… once this is over, I’ll just let the holes heal up.” I replied.
“Loads of guys have both ears pierced these days.” Janet said.
“Just look at Eminem.”
“Yeah but he doesn’t wear dangly earrings like this.”
“Yeah but he’s not posing as a podium girl.” Janet stated.
“You’ve really saved the day Peter…
I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.
What if I mess up?”
“You can’t mess up… all we have to do is stand on a box and do a bit of posing like…”
Janet demonstrated by doing a quirky little Betty Boop dance.
“…and hold a letter.”
My sister works in a bar in town and that bar has just undergone an extensive refurbishment and this afternoon is its relaunch party.
The plan was to have six girls on podiums behind where the ribbon will be cut for the grand reopening….
each girl holding a big polystyrene letter,
spelling out the bar’s name of Oscars.
But disaster struck the day before the reopening…
one of the girls had a fall and can’t take part in the relaunch party which meant my sister had to find a last-minute replacement.
She asked her ‘good-looking’ girlfriends but they all declined.
No one wants to be a podium girl in this day and age,
me included!
But my sister was beside herself with worry.
They’d been planning the relaunch for weeks.
They got the six big polystyrene letters cut and painted in pink and silver,
the six podiums made,
they decided on the outfits;
an off-the-shoulder bo-ho top and tiny black shorts…
and worked on a very simple routine that would last no more than a few minutes.
I could empathize with Janet’s plight.
The routine wouldn’t work with only five girls
none of the guys who worked at the bar could step in because they’d be behind the bar ready and waiting to serve when the ribbon is cut.
I don’t know how she talked me into it…
in fact I do…
she assured me that no one would recognize me as a male when she’s finished
looking at my reflection in the mirror,
I think she’s right.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try heels?” she asked as we admired our matching reflections.
“Nah it’s too risky…
what if I twist my ankle like what’s her face did yesterday?”
“True.” Janet agreed
. “Just try them though…
just so I can see.”
“OK.” I sighed.
I sat on her bed and pushed my toes into a pair of her black court shoes with a slender three-inch heel.
Janet suggested I be careful when I stand.
“Don’t worry, I am being,” I said as I slowly stood.
“These feel scary…
I’ve always wondered how you can walk so confidently in them.” I said as I cautiously stepped to the mirror.
“Years of practice,” Janet replied.
“What do you think?” she asked as I observed myself.
“Erm… I’m not sure.” I said.
“They look the part… and my legs look even longer…
but I’m not going to risk trying to walk in them.”
“You’ll only be on a podium doing this,” Janet said,
demonstrating the very simple dance
which is nothing more than wiggling the hips and knees on stationary feet
holding one of the six polystyrene letters above our heads.
“I know but it’s getting to the podium and getting on the podium that I’m worried about.
You’ve already lost one girl due to an ankle injury… you’ll never find a replacement if I do the same.. so I’d best wear flats.”
“Yeah I guess you’re right.” my sister said.
I kicked off the heels and dropped down to my actual height and slipped my feet into a pair of her flat-black ballet style shoes.
“It’s a good job we’ve got the same size feet.”
“It is.” I nervously agreed.
“But I am having second thoughts.”
I grimaced at my reflection.
“Oh don’t get cold feet now Peter!” Janet whined.
“You look perfect!” she insisted.
“…and it’s fifty quid for a few minutes dancing about on a podium.”
“I know…
it’s just…
these hot pants…
I feel too exposed!”
“We’re all wearing hot pants Peter… and my control knickers do flatten you out quite convincingly.”
Beneath the tiny pair of black stretchy shorts, I’m wearing a big pair of my sister’s control knickers.
They’re really tight from my waist to my thigh but they do eliminate the bulge.
Despite having second thoughts, I know I can’t back out now and the grand opening is only a couple of hours away.
When Janet asked if I’d help, it was the fact that the outfit didn’t involve a dress or a skirt,
but just some shorts and a top that swayed me.
That didn’t sound too bad…
but now I can see just how very short my shorts are and just how overtly feminine I look,
I think I’d have preferred a dress or a knee-length skirt.
“We’re podium girls Peter… it’s all about the leg.” Janet said.
“I know… I’m just not used to having so much leg on show.” I frowned.
“Everyone’s going to be staring at them.”
“There are five other pairs of legs for the punters to gorp at.” Janet reminded me.
“You won’t be the only one being ogled by blokes.”
“I’ll be the only one who is a bloke.” I nervously chuckled.
Janet grinned and told me that the more they’re looking at my legs, the less likely they are to notice my Adams Apple.
I bit my lip and raised my fingers to my throat. “I hadn’t thought about that.” I gulped.
“You’ll be fine,” Janet assured.
She took my hand in hers.
“We’ll be about fifteen feet away from the crowd and to be honest,
I don’t expect more than ten or fifteen people…
it’s not as if there’s celebrity cutting the ribbon…
it’s just the boss.”
“He’s not actually called Oscar.”
I don’t know why I thought he was called Oscar since I knew it was just the name of the bar.
“I guess that’s what you call a blonde moment?”
“You’re a brunette.” Janet grinned.
Her eyes dropped to my hand which she held gently in hers.
“Just our nails next,” she said. “Then we’d best get going.”
I took a breath and said OK.
“Please don’t put those long talons on me.”
“I won’t,” she said.
The false nails she glued to my own was just a couple of millimeters longer than I’m used to.
She painted them in a deep rich red shade that almost perfectly matched my lipstick.
“Is that what you do?” I asked.
“Match your nails to your lippy?”
“Often but not always,” Janet told me as she tended to her own nails.
“I’ve been known to match my nails to my earrings to my lipstick, handbag and shoes,” she claimed.
“Must be quite fun… doing all the accessorizing and stuff.
Us blokes don’t have to worry about any of that.”
“And that’s where I think you guys are missing out,” she replied.
“I hate to wear pants and top one day,
then different pants and atop the next,
then pants and atop the day after that,
and the next,
then when I’m going out on the town it’s pants and top again
and when I’m sobbing out on Sunday,
it’s pants and a top.” she rapped.
“We’ve got pants and tops,
short skirts,
long skirts,
strappy dresses,
strapless dresses,
tight dresses,
floaty dresses,
“Yeah… I think I’d be overwhelmed with choice.” I supposed.
“Does seem a bit unfair though…
there’s this whole spectrum of style and us guys are only allowed one tiny bit of it.”
“That’s exactly what I was saying earlier,” Janet replied as she painted her nails in the same shade as mine.
“Sometimes when I’m feeling a bit down in the dumps…
I’ll choose a really great dress and put on some killer heels,
do something different or daring with my hair and make-up,
and all of a sudden I feel really fantastic…
even if I’ve nowhere to go,
getting dressed up is a real pick-me-up.” she excitedly told me.
“I’m finding it really quite nerve-racking,” I confessed.
“Although it does feel… fantastic …as you put it, too.”
“Good… you look fucking fantastic, and I’m feeling nervous too…
I’ve never been a podium girl before either.”
Janet drove us to Oscar’s bar and parked in the alley around the back.
There’s still a good hour before the opening.
Inside, the barmen are arranging the tables and making sure everything looks perfect.
Janet and I approach a couple of girls dressed in identical outfits to ours.
“Janet I can’t believe you found a replacement for Lucy!” one of them exclaimed.
“I thought you said everyone had turned you down.”
“They had,” Janet replied.
“But that was before I asked….”
her eyes turned upon me. “My brother!”
“There’s no way she’s a boy!”
“Hi.” I bashfully said.
“Oh my god, you are!”
I felt more bashful than I’ve ever felt before.
I didn’t know what to do other than pull an ‘eek’ face.
Janet grabs my hand.
“Peter… this is Zoe, and this is Claire,” she said.
“Zoe and Claire, my little brother Peter.”
“Wow!” Zoe and Claire exclaimed.
“You look amazing!”
“Well, it’s all Janet’s work.” I shyly replied.
Zoe asked if all the hair coiled on the back of my head was my own.
“No… that’s false… my own is desperately in need of cut.” I replied.
Claire asked if was an actual cross-dresser.
“Not usually.” I gulped.
“Oh… it’s just, you’ve got your ears pierced.” Claire said.
“Err… Janet pierced them earlier.” I replied.
“They’re still a bit sore.”
“I bet they are… you’re not supposed to wear danglers for about a month or two.”
“I know but it’s just for today, then I’ll let them heal again.”
“Seems a bit drastic…
actually piercing his ears,
just for a few hours.” Zoe commented.
“It’s just a few minutes isn’t it.” I quizzed.
“Peter’s just here for the opening…
filling in for Lucy on the podium.” Janet informed them.
“We’ll easily cope afterward,” she said.
“I can’t imagine it getting too busy.”
“In that case, actually piercing his ears seems all the more drastic!”
“And he’s shaved his legs.” Claire noticed.
“I though he was just wearing tights at first.”
“Well we had to do it properly… didn’t we Peter?” Janet said.
I nervously nodded. “My ears will heal and the hair will grow back.” I said,
adding “I hope!”
After the surprise of Lucy’s stand-in being a boy, Claire and Zoe really warmed to their ‘honorary girl’.
Janet fetched some drinks from the bar to settle our nerves
my nerves did feel settled…
until the other two podium girls arrived and after being introduced to Rebecca and Louise,
we went through the whole ‘she’s your brother‘ routine all over again.
Another drink quelled those nerves.
“Right… Mike’s coming over,” Janet said.
“Don’t let on that Peter’s a boy,” she instructed.
“What?!” I thought.
Janet turned to me
“Peter… you’re Lucy…
let us see how long it takes Mike to notice.”
“He’ll notice when I open my mouth,” I replied.
“Just smile and nod and sip your drink,” she said.
“Hello, ladies!” Mike, the owner of the bar announced when he approached the six girls.
“Hi Mike,” they said in unison.
I just smiled coyly,
briefly acknowledging him before stirring and sipping my drink.
It’s weird drinking through a straw
but considering my lipstick, it makes perfect sense.
My sister and Zoe exchange a bit of banter with their boss.
The rest of us just smile and when Janet says
“We’re really looking forward to it, aren’t we Lucy?”
I just smile and nod and sip my drink.
“That’s the spirit girls!” Mike says.
He checks his watch.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes.
I’d best check if that bloody press photographer has turned up yet.” he said before marching off.
“I can’t believe he thought I was Lucy,” I said.
“I don’t think he properly looked…
he’s pretty stressed.” Louise reckoned.
She cast her eyes around the refurbished bar.
“I hope it goes well for him…
he’s spent a fortune doing it up.”
“Looks pretty good.”
“Yeah… couldn’t look much worse though… it was a dive.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh it was….
the carpets were sticky and the walls were sweat-stained.”
“I’ve never been before.” was the only contribution I could make.
“You are only sixteen Peter.” my sister reminded me.
“Don’t let Mike know he’s underage!”
“He’s with me… it’s fine.” Janet claimed.
“We’d best go outside.” Rebecca reckoned.
“Only ten minutes to go.”
We finished the drinks and headed first to where the six big polystyrene letters were stacked and took one each.
Janet’s got the O.
I’ve got S.
Zoe’s got C,
Claire has A,
Rebecca has the R
and Louse has the other S.
“Oh god, I’m crapping myself,” I said as I followed them outside.
“You’ll be fine!” Janet assured.
“There’s quite a lot of people here.” she gasped,
seeing a crowd of at least fifty or sixty people.
The six podiums are arranged three on either side of the bar’s entrance.
Checking we’ve got the correct letter and correct podium,
we stand in position.
I can tell that the others are getting nervous too but at least they’re girls…
what if someone in the crowd yells
‘that bird’s a bloke‘ or something?
It’s too late to back out now.
Mike picks up the mic and taps it.
Buff buff, pounds through the PA.
I gulp and turn my eyes to Janet.
I know what to do I’m just dreading doing it.
Janet makes eye contact with all of us,
and as Mike begins to address the crowd and thanks them for coming…
we step onto the podiums,
holding our letters in front of our legs.
As the opening fanfare blasts out over the PA and Mike cuts the ribbon,
we raise the big pink polystyrene letters high above our heads and begin to wiggle our hips in time with the music.
The crowd applauds and Mike declares the bar open.
Janet and I, Zoe, Claire, Rebecca, and Louise continue dancing as the crowd passes between us to enter the newly refurbished bar.
With everyone inside and the fanfare music fading out,
we step down from our podiums and congratulate each other.
“God I’ve never been so nervous in my whole life!”
I exclaimed as we high-fived and patted one another’s backs.
My sister’s hand rubbed the fastener on the back of the strapless bra she’d loaned me.
She grinned. I blushed.
She asked if I enjoyed that.
“Yeah… in a crapping myself sort of way,” I admitted.
“Ladies you look lovely!” some bloke said.
I turned to see a professional-looking DSLR camera pointing at us.
“Can I get a few group shots please?” the photographer asked.
“Err…” I grimaced.
We didn’t really have a choice and he took about ten photos of us in various poses.
“I’m glad that’s over,”
I said when he went inside.
“I bet you are!” Janet grinned.
“I can’t thank you enough Peter,” she said.
“You’re welcome you nutter…
only you could think of getting me to stand in as a last-minute podium girl!”
“And you carried it off perfectly.” Janet grinned.
The others agreed. “You coming in for a drink?”
“Yes… I need one. A very large one!”
I said. We left the big pink glittery letters on the podiums and went inside.
“It’s packed!”
I loudly commented.
A DJ blasted out pounding dance music.
“I know… there’s loads here.” my sister exclaimed.
“I didn’t think many would turn up!” she loudly told me.
“Girls you were great… absolutely fantastic!”
Mike loudly said after pushing his way through the crowd to greet us.
“It’s gonna be busy so I’ll need all hand on deck…
hang on…
you’re not Lucy!”
“Err…” I glanced around for Janet but she was fetching our drinks.
“Lucy couldn’t make it Mike…
this is Janet’s brother.”
Rebecca loudly told him.
“What?” Mike shouted over the banging tunes.
Rebecca repeated herself, yelling right in his ear.
Mike’s jaw dropped.
he gasped,
looking me up and down from my long hairless legs and tiny black shorts to my off-the-shoulder top and the layers of make-up that hide my true identity.
“Err…. yeah…
Janet can be quite persuasive.”
I bashfully yet loudly said.
“You’re telling me!”
Mike replied.
“Have you worked a bar before?”
“What?” I asked.
Mike repeated himself.
“No.” I loudly said.
“Shit!” he grabbed his jaw.
“Right… Rebecca and Zoe…
I need you two behind the bar… t
he rest of you, mingle, smile, collect the empties.”
“Errr… I was only supposed to be ding the podium bit.” I explained.
“Ah, Janet, you’re back!” I said seeing my sister appear with a tray of drinks.
“This is your brother?” Mike quizzed.
Janet nodded and told him that I’d kindly agreed to stand in for Lucy on the podium.
“Great… thanks.” Mike said, but he seemed very flustered.
He and my sister talked about something
despite them being within a meter of me, over the pounding music I could really hear.
“Peter,” Janet said. “I know it was just supposed to be a few minutes on the podium but….
the place is rammed and we need all the help we can get.”
“You want me to stay and work?”
I glumly yet loudly asked.
“I wouldn’t ask if we didn’t need you.” my sister told me.
“You’ll be paid of course,” she said.
I sighed.
“OK.” I said, although I really really didn’t want to.
“How long for?”
“A couple of hours maybe…
’til it dies down.” she said.
“OK.” I grumbled. “What do I do?”
“Just mingle and smile and collect the empties…
and if anyone slaps your backside, ignore it.”
I didn’t quite catch the last bit thanks to the loud pounding music.
“What?” I said, leaning my ear into my sister’s mouth.
She repeated herself. “You’re kidding!” I gasped.
“Comes with the territory,” she said.
“Drink up. You’ll need it!”
What was supposed to be a few minutes dancing on a podium wearing a scanty outfit became several hours politely pushing myself around a crowded bar.
All the time trying to collect the never-ending supply of empty bottles and glasses,
ferrying them an armful at a time back to the bar.
My heart was in my mouth the whole time.
Claire, Louise, and my sister were also collecting glasses
each time our paths crossed, they all asked if I was OK and said I was doing great.
“You weren’t kidding about getting my arse slapped!” I said as Janet and I both arrived at the bar.
The pounding music belted out some heavy dance beats and forced us to almost yell at one-another.
“One bloke even wrapped his hand around my thigh!” I grimaced.
“And this music doesn’t help!” I added as the song lyrics included the lines: .
..we’re gonna make our bitches work it on the floor,
wanna see my sexy ladies screamin’
“give me more”,
yeah we can turn this club around…
“They’re lecherous lowlifes… ignore them.” she said.
“Just think of the money.”
“Easier said than done…
I swear if my glasses weren’t all empty I’d have thrown one in his face!”
“I know it’s tempting but in a place like this…
Look. If it happens again, point whoever it was out to the bouncers and they’ll deal with it.”
“You sure?”
look, I’d best get on…
nd so should you.” Janet said.
“The half-price drinks offer ends at seven so it’ll die down then.”
“What time is it now?” I asked.
“Just gone five.”
“Is that all?!” I exclaimed. Janet nodded.
I had no idea just how hard bar work could be until now…
especially if you’re a young woman wearing a tiny pair of shorts!
Not a single moment went by when some bloke wasn’t smiling at me and looking me up and down,
trying to catch my eye.
The slaps and gropes were few and far between but I took my sister’s first bit of advice and ignored it.
I didn’t like the idea of telling one of the two bouncers,
only for them to say you’re a bloke! the moment I spoke.
I don’t know how but I somehow managed to get through it all without really speaking to any of the punters.
I barely had to even say excuse me as there was always some ogling bloke trying to flatter me by stepping aside.
I’d just smile and peep some high-pitched noise that rhymed with ‘thanks’ or ‘ta’ as I passed through with an armful of empties.
I took them to the bar and hitched up my bra.
“So do you dress like a girl often?” Rebecca asked.
“Apart from today, never,” I told her.
“You’re really convincing.”
“I don’t know if I should say thanks or not.” I smiled.
“If anything it’s us that should be thanking you…
I can’t believe how many people turned up!” she said.
“Yeah…. seems to be dying down a bit now though.”
“Yeah, the drinks offer ended ten minutes ago,” she said.
“Is it seven already?” I asked. She nodded and said it was ten-past.
By seven-thirty, the bar had quietened down considerably.
Half an hour ago it was standing room only but now there are a few vacant tables and just a handful standing around the bar.
I deliver a stack of empties to the bar and Rebecca stacks them in a dishwasher tray.
“Mike said you can grab a break,”
she told me before opening the hatch and allowing me behind the bar.
“I’m on one too,” she said.
She poured two shots and topped them up with either soda or ice.
“Are we allowed to drink on duty?”
I asked as she handed me one.
“Well… not really but we’re on a break,” she said
she led me out the back to a small yard with stacks of empty barrels and crates.
“Want one?” she asked, offering me a cigarette.
“Err… I don’t normally smoke but.. yeah.. thanks.” I said, removing one.
“It’s been a bit of an unexpected whirlwind today,” I said as she put a cigarette between her plush pink lips and offered me a light
“Thanks,” I said after exhaling.
“God I needed that,” I said as she sparked up.
She exhaled and looked me up and down.
“I can’t believe this is your first time,” she said.
“It’s all Janet’s work… she did my hair, my make-up, the fake tan,” I told her.
“Yeah but…
your mannerisms, the way you walk…
that cute little smile of yours.”
“Well… I am trying to play the part.” I bashfully told her.
“I don’t want to be pacing about like some burly bloke out there…
otherwise, everyone would know.”
“Well, you’re playing the part well…
and you certainly carry the look well too.” she complimented.
“Thanks.” I shyly said, sucking on the cigarette and chuckling at the imprint of lush red lipstick on the filter.
“Have you enjoyed it?” she asked.
“What? Dressing as a woman or being ogled & groped by pissed up blokes?” I countered.
“Well, I was thinking about the job; collecting glasses and that…
Mike might offer you a job if Lucy’s going to be off her feet for a while.”
“Yikes!” I retorted.
“Well so long as he doesn’t expect me to dress like this…
if I had a pound for every time my arse had been slapped…”
“Yeah… it’s like that when you’re collecting glasses.”
“But only if you’re a girl,” I commented.
“Or dressed as one.” I corrected.
“I can’t believe just how rude some men can be… this has been a real eye-opener.”
“Welcome to our world.” Rebecca grinned before we clinked glasses.
After a short silence in which we smoked and sipped our drinks,
I asked how long she’d worked here.
“About a year,” she said, adding that it’s been shut for three months during the refurbishment.
“In the meantime, I’ve been temping…
bit of waitressing.
It’ll be nice to get back to regular hours again.”
“Did mike tell you were gonna offer me a job?” I asked.
“No but he did say a few times that the girl’s doing a good job.” she grinned.
“God he probably thinks I’m a full-time tranny.” I grimaced.
Rebecca grinned. “I reckon you could carry off our usual uniform as well as any of us.”
“What is the usual uniform?”
“Just a white blouse, short black skirt, black tights…” she listed as her eyes moved down my body.
“…shoes like those or heels if you prefer.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I replied.
“I mean… in comparison to hot pants and this,” I said, grabbing at my feminine top.
“So… if Mike offered you a job but said you had to dress as a girl rather than a guy… you’d give it a try?” she quizzed.
“Well… er… probably not,” I stated.
I wanted to backtrack and explain that in saying that their usual uniform didn’t sound so bad,
I didn’t mean for me…
I meant for them since it’s more modest than our hot pants and scanty top.
“Given the choice, I’d dress as a guy…
and I’m only sixteen so can’t serve drinks so I doubt he’d be able to offer me anything.” I replied.
“Lucy’s sixteen too,” Rebecca told me as she checked her watch.
“We’d best get back.” she said.
The bar was only half full by this time.
Janet and Zoe had a break whilst I cleared the tables and wiped to tabletops.
With not so many people standing in the bar and interrupting the lines of sight,
I get to see my reflection in the many mirrors that fill the alcoves.
I can’t get over how long and slender my legs look,
and it’s hard to believe that the pretty face my sister had painted over mine is actually my face…
and I’m really liking the little sparkly glints from my dangly earrings.
I deliver a tray full of empties to Rebecca behind the bar.
“What?” I ask of her beaming grin.
“Nothing.” she grinned.
“Go on.” I prompted.
I could feel myself blushing when she said that she’s been watching me glancing at my reflection at every opportunity.
“You fancy yourself don’t you.” she said.
“Erm… well… I look pretty hot!” I bashfully replied.
“Does that make me sound vane?”
“Not under the circumstances,” she said.
“Janet’s done an excellent job on you.”
“She has.” I agreed. I described how my sister got me dressed then began working on my hair and make-up.
Janet wouldn’t let me see myself for ages and when she did let me in front of her mirror,
I couldn’t believe what I was looking at.
“All I could see was a girl and behind all her make-up I could just about see me.”
“I get the feeling this isn’t going to be the last time you dress up as a girl.”
“Oh, I dunno.” I honestly replied.
“What’s that?” my sister asked as she appeared behind the bar.
“Errr…. Rebecca thinks this isn’t the last time I’m going to dress like a girl.”
“I certainly hope not!” my sister grinned.
“This has opened the door for a whole new brother/sister relationship between us,” she said.
“Now I’m getting worried.” I grimaced.
“And I can’t see Mum and Dad being too happy if you start giving me regular make-overs.”
“What you on about Peter?… Dad’s been cross-dressing for years!”
“You’re kidding!”
“Surely you knew?” she asked. “He always has echoes of eye-liner on a Sunday!”
“Does he?”
“Derr… yeah…!”
I gulped.
Surely not,
I thought. Rebecca suggested that me being a boy,
I probably wouldn’t notice the leftover traces of make-up like a girl would.
Janet said she was probably right.
“Does Dad know that you know?” I asked.
“I think so… but we haven’t talked about it,” Janet replied.
“Mum knows I know and I expect she’s told him…” she added
. “…so you’ve no worries about Mum and Dad,” she claimed.
“I’m still not sure if I want to dress up again.” I glumly said.
“Peter… of course, you do…
otherwise you wouldn’t have let me pierce your ears.” my sister stated.
“In fact you wouldn’t have done any of this.”
“I think Janet’s right Peter.” Rebecca said.
“There’s a girl in you that’s desperate to get out.”
I gulped. My head was full of so many thoughts.
I can’t deny that the prospect of dressing as a girl didn’t engage me,
and the reality of my make-over wasn’t exciting.
Dancing on the podium in front of dozens of onlookers and photographers was really scary
However, it was also strangely thrilling
the reality of being a scantily clad girl in a bar filled with boisterous blokes was enlightening as much as it was intimidating.
“Oh, I dunno,” I said.
“Can I just get through today before I start thinking about tomorrow?”
“Course.” my sister smiled.
“Come on we’d best get back to work,” she said.
We cleared the tables together and chatted.
“You do realize Mum and Dad will be in when we get back?” Janet asked.
“and we don’t have a change of clothes.” she reminded me.
I bit my lip. First I thought about them seeing me dressed like this. Then I wondered if my dad might be dressed up too… that would be weird. “You don’t think Dad will be dressed up do you?”
“Nah… he hides it pretty well.” my sister claimed.
“I think that goes on when he goes to bed early…
and when they have their weekends away,” she said.
“When we used to stay at grannies?” I asked. Janet nodded.
I still can’t believe any of this but a lot of things seem to be slotting into place.
“Blimey,” I said.
“I honestly thought you’d noticed.”
“Nah,” I replied. “I’m going with Rebecca’s theory…
I’m just a boy and therefore not programmed to detect invisible traces of make-up.”
“You’re more than just a boy Peter,” Janet said.
“You can be anything you want to be; boy, girl, tom-boy.”
“Ladyboy.” I sarcastically added.
Janet smirked. I grinned. “We could have a house full of women,” she suggested.
I gulped and wiped the table as I considered the prospect of a family of trannies.
“Even if your right about dad…” I said.
“…I’m still dreading facing him like this.”
“It’ll be fine… and it’s all my doing remember,” Janet assured me.
“Yeah I guess.” I said. “I’m tempted to send a text to warn them.”
“I’m tempted to send a photo!” Janet suggested.
“No, please! No photographs.” I insisted.
“Why not?” Janet quizzed.
“We’ll be in the paper on Wednesday,” she said.
“Mike managed to blag a double-page spread, which is why that photographer was here.”
“Blimey, I’d clean forgotten about that!” I sighed.

Janet smiled.
In fact, she didn’t stop smiling.

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