Yesterday , I woke up with the head of another. It was not painful but really surprising. I stood in front of the mirror, and I observed this new face. I had the face of a guy, a bad guy, a little, the kind that you do not bother . I immediately put my hand between my legs … What a mess! I undressed, and I noticed the extent of my new hair. I took a sound out of my mouth; my voice had changed too. There I thought I was going to fall, but since I was now a man, I stood firm.
I wondered what would really change in my life, except that they would call me “sir”. And then, I experienced a violent rise of testosterone, I felt powerful, invincible, I had balls!
I will never beat eyelashes again to get something; I will not be able to laugh stupidly when I do not understand what people will say to me; I will not wear dresses anymore; I will not be able to play the fragile little women when I’m cold or when I’m sad and no one will going to hold my hand to cross the road anymore. No, because as long as I’m a man, I’ll be a fucking man, a stereotype all by myself. I will be strong and proud, I will speak with my fist when it is necessary, and I will protect the widow and the orphan. I’ll wear heavy stuff — even when there’s no need — just to remember that now I’m a guy. And I will slaps girls ass as soon as I can.
Finally, I put on the jeans of my boyfriend, his T-shirt, and I put back my “stuff”, while telling me that it was really strange … Then I went out, sure of myself, convinced that it was so much simpler, male life. I still a little perspired thinking about my boyfriend’s face when I was going home at night, but I reassured myself by saying that maybe he, too, this morning, had woken up with the Another one’s face — I did not think to see if my pair of heels in the entrance when I left …
In short, one problem after another. I had to find a name, now, a manly thing … Vito, here it is done. Hello, I’m Vito … Quick, a glass: I’m good guy at least? And my “thing”, is it good? I congratulated myself — I was already thinking like a male.
I arrived at work, a little anxious: I was afraid of being taken ill, I had not warned anyone; I prayed that none of my colleagues was cardiac. I played the card of normality, and no one made any disparaging remarks; everyone smiled politely. Except the trainee: he said that I rolled buttocks at the count. But I did not let myself go: I went to put my fist in his face. I told him it was my first time, he said I had a nice hook, and we went to celebrate at the bar opposite.
I was in phase with the counter and Marcel the bartender, we agreed that P.S.G was the best football team. I never had to remix or re-hair, but I left a pretty girl in front of me go first in the bathroom and I found myself watching her buttocks.
And then suddenly, I saw the time, and I told myself that my guy was going to make me a sacred scene. I immediately pulled myself together: now I could go back later, I did not have to prepare dinner anymore, and a violent hunger invaded me.
I went through the door and, with a heavy heart but not too much — because I was no longer a girl — I prayed for him to change, too … I bit my lips .. and I saw it. He looked at me with his big yellow eyes and, with a graceful step, he moved towards me and began to rub against my legs; I heard purring and then meowing. I called, “Max?” He meowed in a voice so hoarse … There was no doubt, it was him.
