The fun begins immediately (for Martha)

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat. This is actually happening.

"Yes... Yes, Miss..." you say, your voice sounding very different in your ears. Martha's photo you saw earlier was pretty, but did not do her justice, she is truly stunning. Her outfit is a sporty one, with sneakers, a t-shirt and a short sport skirt. You are not sure what to do. Kiss her hand? Kneel? Kiss her shoe? Stand at attention? Torn between the options you end up doing nothing but Martha notices your hesitation. "Look, I'll cut straight to the chase, Jenna." She says looking down at you. "I'm not big on titles and rituals. You can even call me Martha. And I want us both to enjoy this, so most things I will make you do will be from those your profile listed. Those were the good news for you." You have a feeling the bad news will not be far behind and you are not wrong.

"That said, I will use my chance to have fun to the fullest from right now and you will be very busy. I don't care there is half a year to go." Martha says. "So to start with, I want you to find someone your size and give her all your clothes. Wouldn't want that nice suit to go to waste and cannot be bothered to have it carried back. Just keep your shoes. You have ten minutes." With this she takes a seat on the bench and clicks her phone on, paying you no further heed. You stand there waiting for further instructions but none are coming. Martha apparently lost all interest in you. She just wants you to go and find a random stranger whom your clothes will fit.

You look around desperately. The area is still mostly empty, a fact you were grateful to Martha for just minutes ago. The blessing quickly turns into a curse and you know you have to start moving, your chances here are minimal. Heading deeper into the park would probably be even worse so instead you turn with a quick "Yes, Miss Martha" and start walking back to the central area as fast as your formal attire you will soon be parting with would permit. As you walk you quickly check the pockets to make sure you did not leave anything in them. You also glance at your watch to make sure you know by when you will have to turn back.

The time is ticking away as you hurry along the rapidly emptying as the lunch hours end streets. You encounter a mixed group you do not dare to approach; then you do spot a woman on her own but she is even taller than Martha herself. No chance there either. The next several people you see are all men, none of them carrying “I am a crossdresser and want a businesswoman suit” sign. The initial concern over the time is close to turning into outright panic of failure on the very first task... when you finally see someone who might be suitable.