What if you held a party and everyone came?

We were out for a meal in a place that had been recommended, but turned out to be someone's front room. Disappointed, we headed home. On the way, somone suggested that if people could have pretend restaurants in their front room, why couldn't we have a tranny get-together in my place?

Contacts were called on mobiles, and by the time we'd reached home things were organised for that evening.

Parked nearby the house was a car with a driver I didn't recognise. He gave the distinct impression of a nervous first-timer tranny in drab mode.

I asked if he was here for the party. He said he was and asked if there was somewhere to change. I explained that the party wasn't starting for another four hours and he'd just have to change elsewhere.

As I headed for the front door another car-full of trannies were inexpertly trying to parallel park beside the house. Another group were being warded off at the back door by one of my eating companions, who I suddenly realized was Joanna Nicholls.

The party, it seemed, had morphed into an impromptu open-invite tranny gig. I decided I'd better start getting ready, so I headed upstairs (I'd never noticed before that our bungalow had an upstairs) and was waylaid by a bunch of gay guys, who were here to "ensure that our club had an integrated LGBT policy".

As I was talking to them, I could see from a bedroom window that the crowd of trannies was growing. They were standing listlessly in small groups, like something out of Hitchcock's "The Trannies".

It was at this point in the nightmare (you had guessed it was a nightmare right?) that I awoke with a start. I staggered blearily through my reassuringly one-storied bungalow to the kitchen for a glass of water. Pausing only briefly to peer out of the window to make sure the garden wasn't filled with menacing groups of trannies, I returned to bed and fell quickly to sleep.

And like a ITV movie premiere returning after the news, the dream resumed.

The party/club was in full swing downstairs and I still hadn't managed to get ready.

Siobhan and Valerie appeared to tell me that a tranny who'd posted some particularly dodgy photos to Flickr was trying to get into the club. A meeting was convened of tranny club's management team, which seemed to consist of me, Jo, Siobhan and Valerie. It was agreed that a "no weird tranny" policy should be enacted.

It was possibly too late. I still hadn't got ready, and now it sounded like the trannies downstairs were wrecking the place. I rushed to a spare bedroom, where I met my mum...

It's at that point my subconcious must have thought it was getting all too Freudian and woke me up again. This time I decided it was better to stay that way.