Last year at this time, the pub over on Kirkpatrick
Street had a competition to determine who would
become the new Miss Meath. As usual the pub
opened the competion to everyone and anyone.
And the winner would then represent the Meath
Palace Nightclub for the coming year. His girlfriend,
Roberta, had entered Opie into the contest, more
as a lark than anything. She was well aware that
Opie was a closet crossdresser--having seen him
dressed more than once. Opie had been excited as
it would give him a chance to go out in public as
his femme-self. He hadn't done that much before,
but had relished every minute when the opportunity
did arise. The night of the contest came and Opie
was ready. He looked fantastic, but as he glanced
around the room at his competition, he saw that
they looked darn hot too. One by one the entrants
strutted up on the stage and showed their stuff.
From the audience noise, it was hard to decide who
the crowd would vote. The preliminary vote was
completed, and to his amazement, he was in the
final 5 contestants. Each of the 5 again climbed
the stairs to the stage and strutted their wares.
When the final vote was over, the emcee read off
the runner-up. Opie was still in the running. The
winner was annouced and Opie had won. He again
had strutted up on the stage to claim his prize. It
was after all had quieted down that Opie learned
what 'representing' the pub meant. As had been
stated on the entrance form, the winner would need
a bust suitable for title of Miss Meath. And for Opie,
he soon discovered his new bust was going to mean
implants. The thoughts of refusing the title did
cross his mind, but he was going to do it. This was
his chance to get the public exposure he wanted.
And being a girl for a year sounded like fun.
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