Oh, and answering the phone.
“Good afternoon you’re speaking to Janice. How can I help?” I say each time in my soft ‘female’ voice.
I guess I’d have been happier if is they all said
‘you’re not called Janice…
you’re a bloke!’
but not a single one did.
At least that would have given us a good reason for me not to go through with this ever so important meeting.
As three P M approached I became increasingly nervous.
I told her that I was getting cold feet
however she just grinned and offered me a pair of tights.
“Simon you’re doing perfectly.
You look the part, you act the part, you speak the part…”
she paused and inhaled.
“…you even smell like a woman.” she told me.
“Can’t you just tell them I couldn’t make it?” I suggested.
“Tell them I’m sick or a family matter’s come up….
anything.”
“After all we’ve done?” Mum said.
“Anyway, I’m sure they’d smell a rat if my PA didn’t attend.”