No, you eat in peace.

Mike is an asshole, and he teases you a bit as he brings you your food, but gradually more and more people come in, and he seems to be the only waiter for the lunch shift. Grateful for your small miracle, you eat your veggie pizza. It's not what you wanted, but it isn't bad. You find yourself wondering if the ravioli would have harmed your figure after all, and for that matter, if you should be making an effort to maintain or even improve it.

You'd never really thought about your figure. You don't really know all that much about what goes into keeping one. That sounds like something that older women have to worry about. Not you; you're still so young.

As you eat, you watch Mike. He flirts with a lot of the women, even when they're accompanied by men. He doesn't care. He's just like that. But he's tall and handsome, confident and strong. A very desirable man, except for him being a giant asshole. You spend the rest of the meal trying to do what you came here to do. Plan your next moves. You borrow a pen and paper from the the hostess, and start making a list.

Things I need:

• somewhere to live
• source of income
• clothes

You stare at your list for a while, realizing again how totally homeless you are. Really, though, with the money you got for, well, for effectively selling your male body and identity to science, you have enough to stay in a hotel for a while and find all of these things. Of course, you don't have endless resources, and you'd really love to find a place to stay that doesn't charge you per day.

You add "phone" to the list. The Internet in the palm of your hand. Almost impossible to live without that anymore. Especially in a big city.

As you mull over your options, you become aware of someone standing next to you, looking over your shoulder.

"If you need a place to stay, I am looking for a roommate."