Genderswitch - For Joe

There's something strange about this out-of-body experience that only occurs to me now that I'm well-fed (and combatting a dizzying head rush from the heat). It makes me wonder if maybe I'm being put through this in order to understand the female perspective, because God knows I never did that when I was a teen like all the other boys did. Rites of passage, ones I missed out on.

For the walk to the Compound, I slid into a pair of baggy sweats and it's too much, but Joe's set to remedy that and I'm simply sitting on top of the washer with crossed-legs and waiting. My hair's a mess in a ponytail and I'm smoking a cigarette, thumb pressed to my chin and fingers in the air as it smokes carelessly towards the ceiling.

I've yet to ask aloud why Joe is doing this, mostly because I figure it's misplaced guilt after what happened last night, but at this point in the middle of the afternoon, I don't exactly care. "Make sure you find me something to swim in," I point out, "Abercrombie and Fitch, if you can."