They said their goodbyes and Jennifer escorted Peter back to the elevator. “I can’t believe that just happened.” he said. “I’ve actually got a job as graphic designer?”
“Office junior.” Jennifer corrected. “It will involve some design but to begin with it’ll be mainly setting out, proof reading, photocopying, printing and lot of tea making… we’ve all got to start somewhere.” she smiled.
“I guess.” Peter gulped as he stepped into the elevator. He couldn’t help but see his reflection in the mirrored walls; from the pale blue ribbon in his hair right down to his black patent heels. “Would I have to dress like this everyday?”
“Well like she said, trouser suits, skirt suits, smart frocks, skirts and blouses are all fine… she can be a bit of a stickler for hair and make up though… but you shouldn’t have any problems there… just so long as you keep it smart and not tart.”
Peter stared at his reflection in the mirrored elevator. He imagined wearing a skirt instead of these trousers… in fact he imagined wearing a variety of skirts; short, knee length, pleated, A-line, pencil, patterned, pinstriped and plain. He looked Jennifer up and down. She wore flast ballet pumps, opaque black tights and a smart corporate dress in grey.. and he imagined wearing that too.
Eventually the elevator reached the ground floor and his anxious waiting mother. “How did it go?” she asked.
“I start next month.” he replied. “I can hardly believe it.”
“Oh that’s wonderful… truly wonderful.” his mother gushed. “Well done Peter… and thank you so much Jennifer.”
“You’re welcome… I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” Jennifer replied. “Are you looking forward to being one of the girls Peter?” she asked.
Peter felt himself begin to blush. “I guess.” he replied.
“Well I’m looking forward to you joining us.” Jennifer smiled. “Now you go and celebrate.”
“That wasn’t so bad was it?” his mother told him.
“Well… no not really.” Peter admitted. “But they think I’m a tranny.”
“Well, you’ll never admit it but you’ve always been happier petticoated.” his mother replied.”Shall we go and check out that sale at Dorothy Perkins?”
“I thought you’d made that up… so my friends would see me.” Peter replied.”not that they’ll want to be friends now.” he added.
“I said it so they’d notice you.” his mother replied. “Friends like those you can do without… and you’ll make new friends at your new job.”
“I guess.” Peter replied. “I’m going to need loads of new clothes.” he gulped.
“Well you got £150 pounds left in your savings… that’s plenty to get you started.” his mother smiled.
Peter knew he should be livid with what he’s just gone through. He’s been held hostage, transformed against his will, humiliated in public and in the process, has had his savings account almost drained. He’s got a new job and no friends… and any new friends he makes will think he’s a transvestite, transsexual or whatever… but every cloud has a silver lining.