iver's license, wallet, money, and makeup. A little more than
halfway there, I saw a motel with a "Vacancy" sign out, and an
attractive clean look about it. I pulled in and got myself a room with
no more concern than if I'd been doing that sort of thing all my life.

This time there was no question about my age, nor was there later on
that evening, in the cocktail lounge or anywhere else. I suppose it
was the lipstick that made the difference, plus a certain increase in
self-confidence; apparently I wasn't too small to be an adult,
provided I looked and acted like one.

The new room did not have a bathtub. There was a shower, which was
fun, but not as much as the tub had been. Dressing was _not_ fun, and
when I was finished, the whole effect still didn't look right, in
terms of my own mental image of an Earth-woman dressed for a date.

It was the shoes, of course. This kind of dress wanted high heels. I
had tried a pair in the store, and promptly rejected the whole notion.
Now I wondered if I'd been too hasty, but I realized I could not
conceivably have added that discomfort to the already-pressing
difficulties of stockings and garter belt.

This last problem got so acute when I sat down and tried to drive the
car, that I did some thinking about it, and decided to take them off.
It seemed to me that I'd seen a lot of bare legs with flat heels. It
was only with high heels that stockings were a real necessity. Anyhow,
I pulled the car over to the side on an empty stretch of road, and
wriggled out of things with a great deal of difficulty. I don't
believe it made much difference in my appearance. No one _seemed_ to
notice, and I do think the lack of heels was more important.

* * * * *

All of this has been easy to put down. The next part is harder: partly
because it's so important; partly because it's personal; partly
because I just don't remember it all as clearly.

Larry was waiting for me when I got to the hotel. He stood up and
walked over to me, looking at me as if I were the only person in the
room besides himself, or as if he'd been waiting all his life, and
only just that moment saw what it was he'd been waiting for. I don't
know how I looked at him, but I know how I felt all of a sudden, and I
don't think I can express it very well.

It was odd, because of the barriers to communication. The way he felt
and the way I did are not things to put into words, and although I
could