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Tell me what happened."The story was simple enough. Leslie had taken my challenge and had gone out to prove me wrong. By the time the night was half over she had managed to dance with every black man there, and had gotten everyone of them under the mistletoe, except Tony. For some reason he wouldn't ask her to dance so she took the bull by the horns and asked him. Halfway into the dance she asked him why he hadn't tried to get her under the mistletoe like everyone else had. Tony asked her why he would want to do something like that and Leslie had answered that she wanted it. Tony gave her a long look and then maneuvered her to the end of the bar. Tony gave her a long kiss, with a little tongue, and Tony responded by slipping her a little back. It was a kiss that lasted a good ten or so seconds and when they broke apart Tony had given her another long look and then had asked her what had gotten into her that night. Leslie told him the truth. That she had been perceived as a racist and. MY... GOD, they were real. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO. Things like this just didn't happen. I MUST be dreaming. I pinched myself. It hurt like crazy, and I was still here. What do I do now? Get out of bed, I told myself. I tried to sit up, but I couldn't bend. I felt my chest and stomach. There was something wrapped around me, which was hard and unyielding. I slid to the edge of the bed and managed to get to my feet with a great deal of effort, but I almost fell over as I tried to stand up. My feet were wobbly as I tried to balance. This must be dream, I thought. But it didn't feel like any dream that I had ever had before.I managed to slowly make my way to the dressing table and looked at myself in the mirror. But it wasn't me, or at least not the me that I expected to see. I was expecting to see an image of myself in a floor length dress. But instead of the carrot topped, gangly, male image that usually stared back at me, I saw a pretty, no, beautiful, petite brunette with long flowing.
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