IT’S A BLUSTERY DAY. Connie Don wears a forest green a-line skirt and snug hot pink tank top accentuating muscular arms. His long gray perm undulates in synchronous hula with the stylish textile swaying below his torso. He stumbles against a shopping cart and rails unintelligibly at cars driving through the busy intersection. Though his androgynous flaunt is hard to ignore, he is the invisible transient transvestite.

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