Yes and no.

Shock is a good word to describe your reaction to what you find in the little changing room. Your things are sitting exactly where you left them. However they aren't what you remember bringing in here. Your pile of clothes has been replaced by a set clearly made for a woman, your new body you would imagine. After standing there mouth agape for several seconds you walk in and check them out. The little sack for the costume is right where it fell, a pair of cute boots stand where you kicked off your clothes, and on the bench is a messenger bag style black purse. Picking it up you feel over the well worn leather strap and all of the wrinkles and creases on the satchel. It seems a bit large as if a watermelon is inside so you toss open the flap. The first thing you see is a black half helmet with wispy gray flames and a retractable eye guard and a pair of leather gloves tucked up into the helm. Once you set that aside you can look at what else is inside. You quickly find a little wallet with 43 dollars, a couple of credit cards and drivers license that says you are Amber Stanton, 5'6” 120 lbs with blond hair and blue eyes, and yes you are an organ donor. Next you find a padded little pocket that is sewn on the side of the bag that is protecting a camera from the rest of the stuff inside. It is a small interchangeable lens style camera with om-d printed on it with a fixed lens with 20mm printed on it. You also find a makeup bag, little pink perfume bottle, deodorant, brush, lotion, a pack of gum, a couple of tampons, set of keys, three black hair ties, two small lengths of pink ribbon, 2 chargers for the camera and phone you would guess, a little case with 3 memory cards, a little case that holds a rather worn passport, tiny notebook, and a small gel pen, and finally a pocket knife with a 3” blade.

Turning your attention back to the clothing you decide you might as well change out of this silly slutty costume, even if it is into something that isn't familiar. Stripping off the costume part of you was sure you would change back, although the things all around made you pretty sure that wouldn't be the case. In fact a crazy piece of you can't help but wonder if who you were was just a delusion, or more likely the real Amber is currently freaking out in some mall somewhere standing in your body. You begin picking up the clothes and putting them on, all of it feeling so familiar as you easily and quickly dress. The pink cotton panties and knee high socks are first. Next a pair of jeans that are stylishly ripped all over the place offering up a lot of skin. You follow this up with the pair of knee high leather boots that are well worn, with stiff strong 4 inch heels, and more tread on their rubber soles than you would have guessed looking at them. Next you pull on the soft pink bra or bikini top that is little more than two triangles of fabric and the straps to hold them in place. It is seems odd reaching back and hooking the tiny clasp, but you perform the task as if done many times before. Next you pull on the little white tank top that is thin enough that the color from your bra peeks through and is short enough to leave your navel exposed. Last you pull on the light but sturdy waist length black leather jacket styled to zip all the way up to high on the neck with no collar, but you leave it open. Dressed you stuff everything back into the satchel, adding the now bagged up costume and sexy little boots you purchased here to the pile. It takes a little work getting the boots in, but you are successful. Finally dressed you walk back out into the store. The two workers are back at work straightening shelves and chatting about some concert they plan to attend. You walk out absentmindedly and begin strolling down the mall when something else hits you. This isn't your mall.

“Where the fuck am I?” You say, mouth going slack as you stand there slowly rotating, taking it all in.