Monday, January 20, 2014

Story: A Bad Morning

Eric thought little of it when the woman pushed past him on the subway in her hurry to exit the train. She was after all just a big titted, peroxide blonde, tramp-stamped redneck. She had probably never heard of a little thing called common courtesy. And from the look of her cleavage baring once white tank top, cheap faux fur jacket, ultra short daisy dukes, garish fake nails and bright red heels, she had clearly never heard of good taste either.

Eric never intended to give the incident another thought, but then as the train pulled away from the station he saw the woman again as she stood there on the platform smoking a menthol. She looked back at him and then smiled and shrugged apologetically. “Sorry” she seemed to say.

Assuming she was trying to make amends for bumping into him Eric smiled back and waved it off. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He mouthed. Maybe she had more class than he had given her credit for he began to think.

Then the woman reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet. A brown leather wallet that looked oddly familiar… It was his wallet! That bitch had stolen his wallet! Unfortunately by the time Eric realized that she had his wallet the train was well and truly moving and there was no way for him to get off and get it back. He watched the trailer trash bitch until the train entered the tunnel and then she was gone.

Sitting down he groaned. He just couldn’t believe it. He was a young smart black man with a good job and he had thought enough street smarts to avoid being robbed like this. How had a white trash whore like that had gotten the better of him? There was quite a bit of cash in that wallet not to mention all his credit cards he thought bitterly. He was only cheered up by the fact that although she now had his wallet, he at least didn’t have her shitty life. She was probably desperate and really needed the money, which had to be hard, he wished her well.

This thought made him feel better and by the time the train arrived at his stop he was in a more optimistic mood. He still had his fare card after all, the credit cards could be cancelled and replaced, and he could always get more I.D. The only real losses were the wallet itself, which had been a present from his sister, and the money he had in it. All in all that wasn’t so bad.

Getting off the train he went up the stairs and began the three block walk to his office. Some mornings he dreaded this walk, but today it was simply brilliant out, and despite what had just happened to him in the subway it felt great to be outside.

Halfway to his office he passed by the food truck where he usually grabbed a quick bite to eat. Having no money he intended on just passing it by this morning, but Al the Albanian proprietor of the food truck, called him over. “You no want breakfast this morning, Eric?” he asked wondering why Eric was diverging from his typical morning routine. Eric explained what had happened, and sympathetic Al said he would give him a free coffee and bagel. Eric thanked him profusely, but Al simply replied that he was a regular and it was nothing.

While he waited for Al to smear the cream cheese on the bagel and pour the coffee Eric however began to grow uneasy. The other commuters nearby seemed to be looking at him oddly. However he looked their way though they conspired to look somewhere else. He was about to say something to this one guy who kept stealing glances when Al handed him his breakfast. Deciding that he must be imagining it all, Eric took the bagel and coffee, thanked Al again and went on his way.

Walking down the street munching on warm bagel and surprisingly good coffee Eric’s mind was far away as he thought about what he had to do at work. Therefore it was quite a surprise when he stopped at a corner to wait for a light to change and upon seeing his reflection in a car window noticed that it looked almost blond! This was quite startling as his hair had always been dark brown. So startling in fact that he fumbled and then dropped his coffee, which then spilt all over the front of his good blue suit.

Cursing he spiked the Styrofoam cup and kicked a nearby trashcan hurting his toe. He had to see clients today. What was he going to do? Show up covered in coffee? This kind of thing really pissed him off. Eventually he regained his composure though and then used his handkerchief to wipe his suit off as best he could, but he knew it was useless. The suit would have to go to the dry cleaners.

Passersby continued to give him strange looks, but now at least he thought he knew why. He was a black man with blond hair and was wearing a coffee stained suit. No longer hungry he tossed the remains of his bagel in the trash and decided to sprint the rest of the way to the office. If he got their soon perhaps he could avoid being seen by too many more people and this string of misfortune would end.

He decided to cut through the park. He hardly ever did this as it was actually a bit longer with its winding pathways, but he figured he would look less absurd running through the park then down the sidewalk. This proved to be a good idea as there were few people in the park at this hour besides joggers and though his choice of jogging attire probably seemed odd to them he at least didn’t seem to be fleeing a crime scene as he might have on the sidewalk.

Emerging on the other side of the park he proceeded to cross the street. From there he could see his building. He was almost there. It was just a block or so away. He was going to make it.

Then fate conspired to throw another roadblock in his way. He had just crossed the street and was approaching the door to his building when out of that very door came three people he had come to know quite well. It was the Aubreys, a very wealthy family for whom his firm did a lot of legal work. As usual Mrs. Aubrey looked resplendent in a designer dress, family jewels and a fur coat while Mr. Aubrey and his son looked like clones of the monopoly man.

When they saw him not even their fine breeding could keep the surprised looks from their eyes. Thinking quickly Eric tried to forestall any thoughts or fears they might suddenly be entertaining and launched into an apology. “Hello there, please excuse my appearance, I’ve had one heck of a morning.” He said and then hoping to distract them with legal matters “I hope all is going well with the estate and trust.”

“Yes, yes quite well, thank you.” Mr. Aubrey replied perfunctorily as he guided his wife and son toward a waiting taxi as if trying to get them away from a madman or undesirable.

“Well if you need anything, anything at all, please call the office and I’ll see to it right away” Eric offered in the most ingratiating manner he could manage at the moment.

“Yes, I’ll certainly keep that in mind” Mr. Aubrey assured him seemingly stifling a laugh and hopped into the taxi as well. Eric waved and watched them go with a big fake Pepsodent smile plastered all over his face. What was that? Were they laughing in the back of that cab? It certainly looked like it, but it couldn’t be, he had never seen them so much as crack a smile. What could make them laugh that hard? Was it him? Sure he had blond hair somehow and had a stain on his suit, but was he really that funny. Stepping into the lobby of his office building he looked in the mirrored panels that lined the walls.

Yes was the answer. He was that funny.

In just the time it took him to cross the park he had changed so much and could easily see how a pack of elitist snobs like the Aubreys could get a chuckle out of his appearance. His hair was even blonder now than it was before. It looked almost platinum blond and not a bit of his dark brown hair remained. Worse still he looked like he had lost weight. His suit hung on him like a tent. However his pants were incredibly tight around the hips and had even begun to rip a little in the back. And even without looking closely he could tell his color wasn’t good. He was paler than he had ever been. Paler than he was when he had that horrible case of pneumonia.

This had to be an allergic reaction of some kind he decided. What else could cause these symptoms? He had to see a doctor right away. Fortunately for him if he remembered correctly there was a doctor right there in the building. He ran over to the building directory. There he was. Doctor Ahbtuse: 7th floor. He took the stairs so as to avoid any more run-ins with clients or potential clients as losing either one could cost him his job.

The doctor’s office was typical enough, and as this was the case, there was no seeing the doctor right away. He had to speak to the receptionist, fill out paperwork, and wait to be seen. He tried telling her that it was urgent but she would not be convinced. She told him if it was that urgent Eric needed to go to the hospital emergency room, otherwise he had to wait. He tried flirting a bit, he could be quite charming, but all that did was make her giggle. Stymied he did as she said and waited. There was no way he was going back out on the street like this.

Fortunately it was only a half hour or so before Doctor Ahbtuse saw him, but it felt like an eternity to Eric. Looking at his arm he could tell he had grown several shades paler while sitting in the waiting room. As soon as he was alone with the elderly doctor he began pointing out all the changes in his body and pleaded for the man to give him a shot or something. He needed something soon or he didn’t know what would happen.

Then the doctor slapped him across the face.

Stunned Eric didn’t know what to say or do. He just sat there on the examination table and stared at the man.

“Are you going to behave and do what you are told or do you need more of that” The doctor asked him. When Eric nodded in confusion he cleared his throat and continued “Now I’m only seeing you because I know you won’t get care anywhere else and I feel sorry for you. But that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate ill manners or drug seeking behavior.”

Stunned all Eric could say was “I’m sorry. I’m not a drug seeker!” but the doctor didn’t seem to even be listening and continued in his firm but droning tone as he examined Eric’s eyes with a tiny flashlight.

“Having you been taking any prescription or illegal drugs? Have you been drinking excessively?” he asked to which Eric of course replied that he did not. He wasn’t a drug user. What was going on?

The doctor went on though and his next question really surprised the hell out of Eric, even more than the slap had. “Have you been taking the pill as I prescribed? I don’t want to hear about you having anymore children out of wedlock and putting them up for adoption.”

“Who do you think I am?” Eric had to ask. From the sound of it the doctor had to have him confused with someone else.

Unfortunately the doctor didn’t seem to think so “You’re one of my most annoying patients that’s who you are. And you are really getting on my nerves this morning, missy!”

“Missy!” Eric shouted and was about to deck the old doctor when he happened to catch a glimpse of himself reflected in a stainless steel tin used to hold tongue depressors. “No, this can’t be!” Eric cried as he leapt from the table and picked up the tin and moved it around trying to get a better look at himself. What he found was as amazing as it was horrifying and he quickly tore off his clothes.

He was becoming a woman. Or rather he was a woman now judging by the distinct lack of an Adams apple, smaller head and features, and feminine figure. He had womanly hips, a much larger ass, and breasts that though while not huge were fairly sized and seemed huge to one such as he who had never had breasts at all. His once short curly dark brown hair was also now not only blonde, but had grown and now reached down to below his ears. And horribly that primary characteristic that differentiates the genders had changed as well. Where once there had been a rather sizable penis, there was now nothing but a moist little slit surrounded by soft light blond hair.

And there was no mistaking it now. It was no longer a matter of looking pale or wan or drawn. His skin was far too light for that. It was a white woman he was becoming.

“This is crazy! I’m not supposed to be a woman. I’m not supposed to be white! Why is this happening to me?” Eric wailed and noticed for the first time that his voice was also changing. It was higher than it was before and cracked like that of a thirteen year old boy.

Having stood by while Eric stripped frantically naked and examined himself the doctor now found his voice. “I couldn’t say for certain. How long have you believed you were meant to be something other than a woman?”

Realizing that the doctor was patronizing him and viewed him as some sort of crazy loon Eric choose that moment to get the hell out of there. He managed to grab his shirt and pants before the doctor started trying to grab him and shouting that he was going to call the police if Eric didn’t pay his fee.

Back in the stairwell Eric realized he didn’t have many options left. Whatever was happening to him, seemed to be progressive, the longer it went on the more he would be changed. He needed help, and as much as he hated the idea, that meant he was going to have to go upstairs to his office.

However when he arrived at the law offices of Dewey, Cheatham and Howe he didn’t see any friendly faces. Everyone from the partners to the receptionist to the guy fixing the copier stared at him like he was an escaped mental patient and he supposed he did have something of that look. He was practically swimming in what remained of his clothing which was rapidly becoming too large for him. He decided to see just how bad it was and said hello to his secretary Marjorie. To his surprise she seemed to recognize him.

“Hello again” Marjorie said “I wasn’t expecting to see you again. What can we do for you?”

“What do you mean you weren’t expecting to see me again? Marjorie it’s me, Eric” He whispered back.

“That’s very funny, Miss” Marjorie chuckled “But even with that suit on you don’t look a thing like Mr. Fletcher.”

Mr. Fletcher? Who the hell was that Eric wondered? Then for the second time that morning he asked “Who do you think I am?” and this again received an answer he hadn’t at all expected.

“Well if I’m not mistaken you’re Erika Baker, right?” Marjorie inquired politely even though it was clear from her manner that there was no doubt in her mind with whom she was talking. “We handled your slip and fall case last month. I’m sorry again that the judge didn’t rule in your favor, but at least you aren’t out anything with the firm working on contingency.”

Eric just stared at her. Somehow he knew what she said was true. Whatever was changing him had also rewritten his past. It seemed he was now not only not an employee of Dewey, Cheatham and Howe, he wasn’t an attorney at all and was simply a client trying to cash in on what was judging by Marjorie’s tone most likely a fraudulent slip and fall suit. All his hard work. All that time in school. It was all gone. Overcome he staggered away from Marjorie’s desk and then darted for the restroom. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Sometime later Marjorie came in to check on him. She had always been such a sweet lady. “How are you feeling now, honey?” she asked as she patted on Eric on the shoulder and felt his forehead.

“I feel just peachy” Eric replied sarcastically. He was in a real foul mood. He had spontaneously become a white woman and lost everything for which he worked. He wondered how Marjorie would feel if she suddenly became black. Then he wondered for that matter how she felt being in the men’s room, but upon looking around realized that in his haste it was the ladies’ room which he had inadvertently run into. That seemed to be about par for the course today.

Marjorie either didn’t detect his sarcasm or didn’t care “That’s good to hear” she smiled cheerfully “You left these here. I think they were what you were wearing before you changed for court.” She said handing him a small duffel bag “I thought you might need them” she added motioning toward the general shabby state of his stained and far too large clothing.

“Thanks…” Eric managed to say and once he was alone proceeded to dress in the clothes Marjorie had provided. If it was possible they made him look even worse, but he found his new body had a strange affection for the cheap tawdry garments. It all fit like a glove, a tight glove, but there was no mistaking that this was his clothing. The tight mini skirt molded itself against him like a second skin exposing a rather prominent camel toe, the NASCAR branded halter top showcased his big round tits, and the cheap high heeled sandals looked like they belonged on his new feet with their garish pink nail polish. Oddly enough though there was no underwear to be found so Eric had to go without which felt really weird at first but was soon forgotten.

At the bottom of the bag there was a pack of menthol cigarettes and a lighter. He found he had an overwhelming urge to smoke them which was odd as he had never smoked in his life. Unable to control himself he lit one and inhaled the acrid smoke. “Oh, yeah that’s good” he sighed. Smelling smoke the receptionist returned however and told him he couldn’t smoke there and would have to take it outside. Concerned for his wellbeing she also asked how he could do such an awful thing. Hasn’t he heard the research? Who smokes these days?

Eric didn’t know and didn’t really care. “Fine, whatever” he said and left the building to finish his smoke. He took the elevator down this time. He knew the stairs would be hazardous in the heels he now wore and by now he was beyond caring what his old clients and coworkers thought of him by this point. After all it didn’t seem he worked here anymore.

A man got on the elevator with him and he quickly got the impression that he was staring at her. Fed up he spun around and demanded to know what the man was looking at. The man was a little taken aback by Eric’s confrontational attitude but managed to reply “Your tattoo, I was just looking at the tattoo on your lower back.”

“I don’t have a tattoo…” Eric began to tell the man, but then stopped. Who was he to say these days what he might have and might not. This morning he was a black man and now he was trashy white woman. Then like a dog trying to catch its own tail he began spinning around trying to see the alleged tattoo the man had been staring at. Naturally he was unable to see it, but was quite dizzy by the time the elevator reached the lobby, and stumbled out like a drunken sailor. Now in the lobby again he could see in the mirrored walls that just above his big round butt, but high enough that his skirt didn’t cover it, he now sported a very distinctive kind of tattoo; hearts and roses and thorns with his new name “Erika” in the middle. A tramp stamp in other words.

Cursing Eric stormed out of the building and began chain smoking out on the sidewalk. He didn’t know what he was going to do now. If he didn’t have a job, did he still have a home? Would he be able to convince his family that he was who he said he was, despite looking like a redneck slut? He doubted it. What was he going to do? Despite himself he began to cry.

And that’s when the man approached her. He was tall and well dressed and looked much as Eric had before he had changed. “Don’t cry, my dear” he said and handed Eric a handkerchief to dry his eyes. “You’ll get through this, I’m certain of it” he continued to console Eric “you may not be what you were, but things could be worse.”

“What do you mean? How do you know I’ve changed? Do you know me?” Eric asked confused and more than a little wary. What if he was a prostitute now and this was his pimp?

“Yes, I know you.” The man smiled “We bumped into one another on the subway this morning” he explained and suddenly it all became clear.

“You’re that woman, that white trash slut who stole my wallet! What did you do to me?” Eric angrily exclaimed and grabbed the larger man by the lapels not even thinking about how ludicrous this all was.

The man however easily freed himself from Eric’s clutches, he wasn’t nearly as strong as he once was after all, and held him away from him while he told him what had happened. He told Eric that his name was Cyrus and how he had been cursed and turned into the white woman he saw that morning. The only way to reverse the curse he discovered was for him to find a man who was his total opposite and take something of his and still have him somehow wish her good fortune. Naturally this wasn’t easy and he had been stuck in the body of that slutty white woman for years before he found a man like Eric with the perfect mix of egotism and self righteousness to work the magic on.

Now he had his life back and it was Eric who would be the one trapped looking like a white trash cougar being looked down upon by everyone she meets and forever being laughed at behind her back. Eric hadn’t even seen the worst of it yet Cyrus told him. The curse was just now finishing the transformation.

Startled Eric ran over to a car window to see what Cyrus was talking about and gasped at what he saw. He was also older looking now he noticed, probably closer to forty than thirty and didn’t carry the years well at all. Tawdry makeup now covered his face, a cheap spray tan his out of shape yet curvaceous body, and gaudy earrings hung from his earlobes. The hair that had been a vibrant blond just a while ago was now badly damaged from too much peroxide and looked like straw. Even his nails had changed. Now they had tacky badly rendered designs on them and were clearly fake. There were even more tattoos now; a butterfly on his ankle, a tribal band on his arm, and a flower on his right breast. He no saw any part of himself in the reflection. Not even in the eyes which were now a dull green rather than the dark brown they had always been. The transformation was complete.

Cyrus handed Erika a little purse at this point and inside she found her Dale Earnhardt Jr. wallet, the few dollars she had in it, some condoms, cheap makeup and another pack of menthols. The I.D. confirmed what she already knew, that her name was Erika Baker from some hick town in the middle of nowhere and that she was not a driver having had her license revoked for driving while intoxicated. She also knew she was unemployed and nearly broke having failed to win her slip and fall lawsuit against K-Mart. She lived in a trailer park where she rented a spot and had a beat up old RV which she called home.

Overwhelmed by what had happened to her Erika remained standing in front of the store window in nearly a state of shock. Cyrus recalled how it had taken him a considerable time to come to grips with the curse as well. He then wished her luck and said goodbye, he was going to go and live the rest of his life as the man he was meant to be, while Erika was cursed to be a white trash slut until she found a man who was stupid enough to pity her but at the same time vain enough to feel he is superior to her in every way.

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