I was having another secret meeting with my boyfriend, Allen. Only, this time we'd arranged a little twist to our usual tryst.After years of Allen and...I seeing each other, I'd finally worked up the nerve to share my fantasy of him dressing up like a woman for me.It wasn't easy for me to do. I'm a shy, reserved girl and Allen was about as masculine a guy as you'd ever find. I was afraid he'd break up with me when I popped the question but the matter was heavy on my heart and Allen was always. Top-of-the-line. Auto-focus, light balance, you name it. It did everything but undress the girls, which was good, because I preferred doing that myself."OK, let's lose the T-shirt," I said helpfully. Her hands flew to the bottom of the material and she prepared to whip it over her head. "No no, slowly slowly. Reveal yourself to the camera." She slowed down. I pushed a button. CLICK. The flash flashed. The mechanism whirred, and a white cardboard treat was ejected from the front. I took it and. Sharon finally burst into tears.Sharon: (crying and shaking her head frantically)Please don't do this Mrs. Chandragupta. I have a son. I mean how would your son feel if he had to see his own mother being used around like some kind of...But before Sharon could finish her sentence, Mrs. Chandragupta gave her a very tight slap on the face. Sharon let go of the Indian's woman sari and put her hands on her slapped cheek.Mrs. Chandragupta: (yelling at the top of her lungs)You shut up. Don't you ever. Destination: crap nightclub land. I am talking cheap painted woodwork and plastic signs with lame titles like ‘Club Zone’ and ‘Bar FM’ - fake American attitude and British self-deprecation mixed. The shadow of the 1980’s was still looming behind us like something cannibalistic... with scabies.While the choice of hole was not great in Ellin we selected somewhere that may or may not have been called ‘The Venue’. Inside, it was all red paint, plastic pint pots and offensively loud dance music with.
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