Priscilla - Queen of the Victorian Countryside
By Tene Bond.
May I welcome you to the Trans Gendering vehicle for the weekend. We will be travelling at a constant speed until we reach our destination for more fun than you can poke a long cigarette holder at. So frock up, jump in and wear your party shoes as we make our way into the wild blue yonder to schmooze with the country lads and lasses of Wang.
The invitations were sent out for Rooster's 21st and all that was left to do was arrange our costumes. Rooster's parents had specified a theme, that much we knew. Gangsters and Molls, 20's and 30's, fun, but we longed for more. It was deemed that cross dressing would be fun. The final stipulation was that all who travelled in the Shark (R.I.P.) were to become the other gender. Some lept at the chance, others took a little convincing, but not much! Cress and myself were keen, Dave Warwick and Chlebo were keen, but feigned otherwise. James took a little more convincing, but I'm sure that was all just for show.
What does one do now? Buy a frock of course! Out they ventured, all alone to purchase a dress, what's a boy to do? Dave W went along to the local Op Shop and found a plethora of goodies, so much in fact that he bought not one, but TWO dresses. Well you just never know when you might need another. He went insane and bought lots of cheap beads to match his outfits. James was too late for the Op Shop, he instead went to a shop and hired his dress from the very kind lady who gave him some strange looks. I doubt whether she had ever had an American parading around her establishment in a frock before. James decided on a rather snug fitting black number which was so tight that one could actually see his manhood. Hence his decision to wear a jock strap, or was that just to make us all want to have a good look considering the lack of jock strap usage in Australian sport. Chlebo took the easy way out and borrowed an outfit from Cress, including the piece de résistance, heels.
The biggest struggle for the "boys" was putting on their stockings - what better way to bond! Cress and I endeavoured to give them a few tips on the best way to put them on WITHOUT putting your finger through them. I was surprised that they caught on to this feat so well, not a hole was made. Well done, they were now girls!
Our story, in comparison, is rather bland. We bearded up and had a "slash" with some of the other gentlemen at the party. We learnt that it's not a scratch, it's a readjustment!! I think that we picked up the readjustment bit quite well, not to mention the sitting with the legs apart and smoking a cigar. I'm sure that I speak for Cress when I say that we had way more testosterone surging through our bodies than any other guy there!
Rooster's parents had not pictured the Volleyballers like that, but she'd been warned that we could be a little odd at times. I think that Mr Rooster had a great time with Dave flirting and dancing with him, but I'm sure that he didn't tell Mrs Rooster!
With the festivities over and the local folk sufficiently shocked it was time to return to Melbourne. We gave our fond farewells, a big stacks-on and were gone. But not without leaving a lasting impression.