Kevin

It was my junior year of college when the Great Shift struck. I had been living with three other guys in off-campus housing, and we all ended up in women’s bodies. For instance, I swapped with one of my teacher’s, a woman in her late 30s -- not the greatest looking either.

But our roommate Kevin? It was like he won the lottery, man. The body he swapped into looked like a supermodel. Yet every day he wore baggy sweats. We were all pretty disappointed, and I overheard another roommate confront him about it.

“You don’t get to tell me what to wear,” I remember Kevin shouting, “What do you even expect me to wear anyway? Should I be running around the place in my underwear? Maybe you want me to get a silk teddie? Should I put on a French maid outfit and clean up the place? It’s not like I see any of the rest of you doing any of that? Screw you guys.”

I had pondered asking Kevin about this myself, but I was glad I didn’t.