ScotlandOnSunday.Scotsman.com – Ewan Morrison
It may just be the falling leaves and darkening skies, but something seems to have got very grey and grim in our neighbourhood. We’re missing something, some local colour. I realised yesterday what it was – it was Des. Where the hell has he/she gone?
I say he/she because Des is/was our local transvestite (I named her Des because it stands for Derek and Desdemona). Des is, of course, not her real name, but neither was the one she used at the job centre. And that’s how I know Des, because we used to sign on together.
As Des always sat across from me and we sometimes had to wait up to 20 minutes before signing on, I was handed a once in a lifetime opportunity to stare at a transvestite, and try to work out her techniques of transformation.