Dear Stephanie -
Just thought I'd drop you a line to tell you that Diane and I both survived Anne's birthday party last night. And I mean survived! It wasn't at all what either of us thought it was going to be like. I had visions of the place filled with Anne's beauty-salon clients (as Diane had said), with a few of their men in tow - fairly well-off people, well-dressed and quite classy. After all, beauty treatment is a luxury, and not everyone can afford it. But how wrong could I be? Diane and I were the only clients (and the only trannies) there!
The first bad omen was that I had to walk through the downstairs bar full of 'straights' to access the stairs to the function room. Definitely not for the faint-hearted! Then as the evening wore on, I began to realise that this was definitely NOT my type of party. In fact, I can quite truthfully describe it as the sort of situation I've spent my life trying to avoid. You know the sort of thing - the women dancing around their handbags, and the men sitting around the outside getting pissed out of their tiny little brains, and then lapsing into a morose state where they want to tell you their sad life-story. I hate to sound like a snob, but this is my idea of hell, and I wouldn't knowingly go to that sort of function dressed as a man, never mind as a woman. In fact, had I known what it was going to be like, I'd have given it a miss.
I must confess to feeling quite vulnerable at times, although I took great care to radiate an air of self-confidence. Nevertheless, I always made sure that I was near people I could trust, and always took an escort to the ladies! Diane seemed to be taking it more in her stride, although she wasn't dressed as provocatively as me. It's only that I thought it was going to be a more up-market party that I didn't wear a shorter skirt (such as my silver one) and heavier make-up. Thank god for small mercies! There were definitely some queer-bashers there who, in another time and place, would have had no hesitation setting on us; given the amount of alcohol which was flowing and the scarcity of functioning brain cells, it's perhaps surprising that punches weren't thrown anyway.
In the cold light of the following day, I think we may have been set up. Anne knew full well that most of her clients wouldn't go to a dump like that. She presumably also knew that there would be people there who wouldn't be able to cope with trannies, and some who'd get rather pissed off to see anyone - especially a tranny - chatting to their girlfriend. So why did she invite us? Was she just being thoughtful - did she really think it was our 'thing'? Or were we meant to be part of the 'cabaret' if you know what I mean - something different, something for people to watch? Who knows. In any case, I think it was unacceptable to put us at risk in that way.
From a personal letter. Some names have been changed.