He watches as you pull off your clothes and put on the dress, high heels and the bloomers, drape the pacifier around your neck, and sloppily put on the lipstick.
"There, happy?" You growl, as intimidatingly as a guy can while in a diaper and dress.
"Oh, no. Not even close." He laughs. "But I guess, if you want me to get rid of one of the photos," (he has more than one?) "I guess you can walk home in that."
"Walk home? That's like 30 blocks!"
"Oh, I know. But I guess I could just..." He lifts up the phone and--
"No no, I....I'll do it."
"Really?" Andrew looks startled. "OK, then get going!"
As you leave his office, you consider your options. You don't have cash for a cab, you are not calling a friend like this...you could call Mom. Or walk home, on the longer, safer route, or the shorter route through the bad neighborhood.
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