I lived in a block of flats when I first married my present war office,.. in the block behind lived a bloke and his Mrs who we knew. I say knew as apparently I didn't as well as I thought. One day whilst working with him and it was hot really hot I insisted the twat take his gloves off so he could really work instead of fluffing around. He said did I know the secret my Mrs had discovered about him? What the fuck you talking about I asked? So off comes the gloves and painted nails or what. I asks him whats the crack, apparently I'm the only fucker in 10 Navys don't know he's a tranny. So its suggested I go over his drum and witness the fucker in drag, I refused as I did not want to go to a drag show just for his sake. A few days later the boss gives me his wages and I take them over. He's dressed says his Mrs. I should fuckin hope so I say its only 4pm. On entering the lounge I see what she meant. Sitting on the settee is this apparition in a yellow dress. Now any woman who went out like he looked would get laughed out the district. Everything about him was OTT, his clothes his hair and certainly his makeup. He looked like a bloke taking the piss out of a woman, fuck me I dressed up at a holiday camp once for tarts night and looked sexier than this prick and he was supposedly doing it as a serious thing. I sat in front of him and told him... S.... if you were a real woman I'd fuck a panto horse rather than you. The twat burst out crying. Apparently it wasn't the wind up I thought.