Alice was all tensed up. All the way out the Expressway, she asked me questions about my folks. "Do I call them by their first names, or what? Should ...I call your dad "Mr. Taylor?" People call him 'Bud, '" I told her."Bud? I can't call him 'Bud!'" She said it mockingly, sounding like the frog on the Budweiser commercial. "That's way too informal! What's his actual name?" His name is Lawrence Taylor," I said."Really? Like the football guy?"I was a little surprised to find that Alice knew about. So I just said, “Sure.” Immediately Rahul got out, let me go in, sit, and then sat back. I had my bag on my lap, which he snatched from me without even asking me, and placed it aside.He then turned to me, came close to me, and said, “Pranali, I waited to have you for 2 years, but you were too good for me, weren’t you? And now, look at you. You are sitting between me and my friend dressed like a complete slut with your short skirt and tight shirt, which is putting your boobs on display for the. “How old are you, Alfredo?” He stood a little straighter, “I’ll be twenty eight in two weeks.” He was exactly half her age. Ellen took hold of his muscular arms and stepped back. “Alfredo, I am really very grateful that you and your colleagues stepped in when you did and sorted things out with my, erm, friend, Bob--” “We persuaded him to pay for your meal!” he beamed, winking, “And he left us a huge tip too!” “Yes, yes, you said,” she waved her hand dismissively, “and thank you so much for. I still call myself a sissy, even as of today. In the evening, I was always dolled up like a woman. But, during the day, I was nothing but a boy. I said boy, because I felt effeminate around other men. I am fit, but slim and feminine. I never went to school or to work as a girl, because I was afraid. Surprisingly, I never had a problem going out at night or meeting men dressed up like a girl, like a true sissy. I really wanted to be ‘out’ and be myself all day long. I was tired of being a boy.