Out of Order

The odd vending machine loomed lagre in front of me. It wasn’t quite clear what it sold or how much it cost, but the thing was fascinating me. I thought that while my girlfriend was in the bathroom, I might be able to figure out how to get a soda out of this thing or something.

I put in a single quarter and thing sprung to life. It seemed way too cheap, but I tried pressing a button anyway. The change was instantaneous.

It felt wrong and right at the exact same moments, like I was becoming the wrong person and yet the person I was always meant to be. I had become a woman. and yet I didn’t feel out of place for an instant. My body didn’t feel strange, foreign, or unfamiliar. I knew it was different, but it still felt like this was who I always was.

I didn’t know how my girlfriend would react when I saw her coming out of the bathroom. But I soon realized she was looking right past my current form in search of my original body. I tried approaching her and telling her, but she seemed confused by my words. I realized I wasn’t speaking English. I really had to concentrate to speak my own native tongue.

“Me. Help. Change. Girlfriend.” It was about the most I could manage.My girlfriend did her best to understand. She looked at me. Then she looked carefully at the vending machine before she said, “I think it’s out of order.”