Back from my four years of college, ready to join the family business. In a way, I was lucky actually having something to go to after college. The continued depressed economy making life more difficult every day. I studied anything business, marketing, accounting, management, even took a couple of courses in selling. There was five of us involved in the business, my mother who oversaw the operation of the business, two sisters who did the actual calling on customers and one sister who designed the jewelry, saw to its manufacture and placed orders when necessary.
Everybody started as a salesman, having to work their way up to anything better. Joanne and Jamie had huge territories to cover. These had grown over the years, now too large for them to be able to do the customers justice in these areas. It was decided that I would take a little of each of their territories, making the remainder easier to manage for them. Jill, the one who did the designing even handled a few customers, ones that were too far away to visit regularly.
In case you have noticed the names all staring with a J welcome to our world. Dad’s name was James, of course, Mom was a member of the group too, since her name was Janice. It is confusing for us, but imagine what it is too an outsider. Mail sent to J. Prescott required intervention before finding who it was intended for.
Although I knew that I would be selling female jewelry, I was still a little anxious when I made my first foray as a salesman. Each of the girls went me the first time introducing me and making sure I knew what I was doing. While the girls wore a lot of their samples, changing between every customer anticipating what that customer might be interested in, I was limited to a showcase with the samples inside. The first call on the customer went well, remember I had help, but the second trip out I sold very few items. When I got back after a week on the road alone the girls were all waiting on me. When they saw my face, they knew I had not done well.
We went out to dinner that night, the sole topic of conversation is my sales. Lots of reasons were expressed, discussed and then talked about some more. I was getting more depressed by the minute. We had the customers, but if I couldn’t get them to place orders with me I was useless. Everybody had hoped that another salesperson would make a big difference, maybe even allow them to pick up a few more customers in the fringe area.
We had another person to support and if I couldn’t make the sales the money would have to come from the others. They all said that was no problem, but I knew that would get old real fast. I had made a friend in college, she was also from a family business, her skill level especially in sales was awesome. I decided I need some help, so I called Patrice. She was in town making sales calls, we agreed on dinner and I cleaned up and met her at the restaurant.
I explained the problem, she listened intently. In between eating our entrees that is all we discussed. She did have some of the same customers, so she knew what I was up against. During the meal she even called one of them, a close personal friend of hers, eventually working me into the conversation. She never did tell me what was said about me, but I could see she was working on a possible solution. Back in college she often got that way, a few days later she would come up with the perfect answer or solution to the problem.
“Meet me tomorrow morning at this address, we will try something and then see if it might work. I want your promise that you will give it a try, not something that you will like but I am sure it will work.”
“I do want this to work, the whole family is counting on me and so far I am nothing but a drain on the finances. I am curious what you have in mind, can’t I have a clue?”
“Nope tomorrow and be mentally prepared for the worse.” Now I am worried, what could she be conjuring up for me? She had to do some phone calls for her business, so she left giving me a big kiss on the cheek. That was delivered with a corresponding smile that stretched from ear to ear.
I wonder what has changed, we talked often during college, but never any show of emotion or words of endearment. In college we often helped with each other’s homework or furnished each other notes when we missed a class, but up to now nothing else. Her family’s business is selling female accessories. Namely handbags, scarves, belts, gloves, sunglasses and ladies wallets. There line of handbags numbered in the thousands, her commission often in excess of eight thousand a month. Whereas I was starting fresh, she worked part-time while in college, so after graduation she already had some existing customers.
Jill was waiting for me when I got home, dragged me to her room so we could talk. I told her about meeting Patrice, telling her of my problem, and her conversation with one of my new customers. Patrice seems to think she has a solution, I have to meet her at some place in town tomorrow morning. She said I probably would not like the solution but she is sure it will work. I showed her the address and after a few minutes Jill smiled. “Yeah it might be the right thing to do, we will certainly see.”
Whatever else she wanted to talk about suddenly forgot. I made to my bedroom, changed clothes and settled into bed. The day had worn me out mentally, so within minutes I was sound asleep. No dreams, at least, ones that I could remember or wanted to. Saturday morning usually a day of rest or catching up, now a day to see if another way could be found for me to be able to sell the jewelry we handle. I dressed in some comfortable clothes, Dockers and a golf shirt. Grabbed a snack, breakfast never a big thing with me and headed to the address that Patrice had given me.
When I pulled up front I looked at the address on the paper again, maybe I got it wrong. Then out walks Patrice and I suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. She opens my car door, dragging me out and we go into the salon. On the window is the name of the place, The Turnabout Gurl Salon. The first look at the place scares me to death. Too late to run, she had my hand firmly gripped and we are walking back to the rear of the salon, way away from any escape route. I contemplated a lot of things in the next few moments, should I try it, run while I can, or hope that the coronary that I will probably suffer in the next few moments will be fatal.
As she showed me to a seat in the treatment room, room 13 to be exact, I figured either the first option or the third would be best, whatever fate decides to deliver in the next few hours. Patrice never did release my hand, holding it until I was naked and my feet were in stirrups, spread wide for all to see. I had to sign some releases, they were explained to me in detail. I was already in the stirrups when the releases were given to me to sign.
Essentially I was to receive their deluxe turnabout package, everything needed to portray a female for a week, just nothing permanent. As Sylvia the tech was setting up Patrice explained what she had found out from several of my new customers. They liked the jewelry, always had, but having a male try and sell it to them just seemed off, awkward to be exact. My sisters always wore some of the line, showing off the pieces often. Being female they were so easy to talk about the items eventually leading to the customer ordering some of those items.
They were sure I would eventually sell them something but the camaraderie just was not there as before. Nothing against me but a male trying to sell earrings and a necklace just wasn’t comfortable. One customer had seen something she liked, but couldn’t figure out how to approach me. The male façade kind of intimidating to her.
So we are going to get rid of that male façade and present a new young female dressed to the nines and wearing the company product proudly. For the whole day while you are being worked on I want you to think female. Not a male thought allowed in that soon to be beautiful little head of yours.
Why they started with my male appendage was a mystery, but as I had time to think about it, maybe it would be the right pace. Get rid of the predominant male organ and the male image evaporates quickly. Betty got rid of the body hair first, from my chest to my toes, front side only. Then before I could figure out what she was doing, I no longer saw my friend of twenty something years. Now in its place was a set of puffy lips with a deep slit between them surrounded by a small patch of hair shaped like a heart.
Right them my male façade disappeared. I am female now, a fate that most male fears with a passion, twenty minutes into this change and I am doomed. I closed my eyes, a tear or two escaping my eyes. Why this way, surely there is something else I could do to make a living. Maybe I should quit the family business, no longer a burden to them, let them go back to how it was before I joined them. I was turned over, the hair on my backside had to be removed, within a few more minutes I was hairless except for a heart shaped attraction at my groin.
Once more on my back, two breast forms were glued to my chest, the seams of the forms and my new cache sex were blended away, to all I was now a female. I did get a look in the mirror as I was moved to a chair so they could work on my hair and nails. Even with my male head the image was female. I surprised myself with how I looked, I was almost pretty, then I pictured my neck and ears with a necklace and earrings, maybe Patrice was right.
Then a large smile appeared on her face. “Do you have some customers you could call on later today, ones that not far from here?” I nodded yes.
Story Incomplete At Present
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker