Havinga face on was causing a distraction; there was a girl, I mean a younglady in my home. But I was still a rough guy in a dress, moving about, abit...of a klutz, rather than a woman. This thought caused me to pause. Awoman moves more carefully about the world. I could get along just as Iwas, but I considered the alternatives. Dressing was only part of thisexperiment. I'd convinced myself that my voice wasn't an issue. Beingbruised was one thing, tearing an $18 dollar pair of tights was. It'd been a long time since Noemi had talked to a teenager, at least one that didn't work for her at the Food King. Most conversations with them consisted of reminders that they were being paid to do a job and not just hang out. Before she knew it, the clock on the wall said it was after midnight.Saying good night, she logged off and decided that maybe it hadn't been such a wasted night after all. If anything, it beat the reruns on television.A few nights later, she was again a little bored and. More

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