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Becca took my hand and escorted me over to the clothes rack. My eyesand mouth were opened wide as I saw the shiny black satin dresseshanging on the rack."But, but, you wear pants and a shirt to wait tables I saw you lastnight wearing them!"Becca then chimed out,"Monday through Friday we wear slacks, butSaturday we wear dresses you dumb ass."I couldn't believe this, now I have to wear a dress, and the worstpart is I asked to wear the waitress uniform! I watched in fear asBecca took the dress off the rack and pulled the zipper all the waydown."Ok Jenny step into the dress for me."I knew I had no other choice so I stepped into the dress and Beccabegan to pull it up to my waist. Linda helped me get my arms into thelong shiny satiny sleeves. My feminine hands popped through thebottom of the sleeves and Becca began to zip me into my uniform. Icould feel the dress fit every contour of my corseted waistline andmy padded chest! The zipper reached my neck and Becca secured theclosure, Linda. Not giving up I rushed to the chest of drawers and started flinging thedrawers open. Just as disappointingly as the closet, each and everyonewas completely bare. I had no clothes!I sat down on the edge of my bed and sulked. "Is this the only outfit Ihave now? What am I supposed to do tomorrow?!?!" Looking down at thelong, smooth legs I now sported, I stared for a moment at theridiculous pair of stiletto boots on my new feet. My poor toes werepinched and my ankles were killing me.Determined to assert some kind of control I immediately started tounzip and pull the footwear from me. "Well...I sure as Hell don't haveto wear these stupid things!" I smiled for a moment as my feet got amoment to breath. Unfortunately, as I looked down at the dainty littlepainted toes my good feeling melted away.The horror and frustration of my situation finally overwhelmed me. Iturned over on my belly and buried my face in my pillow. I don't mindtelling you that I started to bawl my eyes out. The odd feel.
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She told me I was luckyto have a week off from school and advised I used it wisely. I shruggedmy shoulders and she said I would not be allowed to slouch around allweek."I have a suggestion," she said. "Why not do what I suggested a whileback. You can work with me, and we can work undercover. You can be mydaughter at a pageant. It would be so nice cracking this story with you!" Mom said no. I am not a girl; people will laugh at me if they thought Iwas a sissy" The right term is transgender," she corrected me, "and you would not bea sissy. You would be undercover. You could be helping so many girls thathave to go through this for years. You can help expose the pageant worldas something evil and think of how many girls will think you are a hero" Then everyone will know I was a girl and I would be teased non-stop." No one will know it's you. You will be a hero yes, but no one will knowwho the girl in the pageants was. When I do the story, it will not sayyou were a boy that was.

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