"There is one more thing," continued the personnel director, "in reviewing your audition tape, I noticed something that I feel must be corrected before I dan hire you."
Brandon felt sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He was sure that he had the gaff positioned properly under the white jump stocking and black dance skirt he wore for the tryout.
She could not have guessed his true sex!
"You wear falsies, don't you? I find this odd for somebody in your profession. While we don't show nude dancing or even totally bare breasted dancing, our girls do wear low-cut tops, semi-sheer body stockings, and occasionally at our late shows, pasties over their nipples. If you wear an A-cup brassiere without prostheses, I'm afraid we can't use you."
"However, if you would be willing to have breast implants, I can recommend a wonderful local surgeon. It is an in-office procedure these days and if t couple of days, you should be healed up in time for rehearsal in two weeks."
"B-b-breast implants? Golly, I, Hmmm," sputtered Brandon suddently flustered. Such a possibility had never occurred to him.