"Bra Adjustments and Unexpected Love: A Gender-Swapped Comedy"
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I never thought Iâd see the day when I'd walk into Hooters for wings and walk out with the waitressâs body. But hey, that Great Shift thing didnât exactly come with an instruction manual, right? One day, I'm elbow-deep under the hood of a '67 Mustang, the next, Iâm jiggling in places I never used to jiggle. My boss? Yeah, he was not havin' it. "Tommy," he says, âI just canât see you fixin' cars like that." Like what? With a killer rack and a blonde ponytail bouncin' like a Slinky at a kidâs party? Please.
So, my buddy Mick, God bless him, he steps in. "You can crash at my place," he says, and next thing I know, Iâm in a lovely floral-print apron, pinchin' my sides trying to figure out how ladies do this. And donât get me started on this bra! Itâs like itâs been designed by a masochist.
"Hey Mick," I holler, adjusting the straps for the umpteenth time, âThis thing is killin' me. Iâd rather be squished under a '74 Ford Pinto!"
Mick just laughs. âYou look fantastic, Tom.â Not even bothering to mask that smirk of his. I tell ya, heâs gettin' a kick outta this.
âYou know whoâs also gettin' a kick outta this? Dave. You seen the way he stares at me? I swear, Mick, heâs ready to build me a shrine in his cubicle.â
Mick chuckles, âHeâs harmless. Anyways, how ya likinâ the secretary gig?"
âWell, considering Iâve stapled my finger thrice and almost sent an email to the CEO calling him âCaptain Tightpantsâ? Itâs a party! But hey, gotta pay the bills somehow, right?â
Mickâs looking at me now, kinda nervous-like. âTom, you ever think about⌠I dunno, goin' out?â
I laugh, swatting his arm. âWhat, like outside? Trust me, Iâve been outâgot hit on by the pizza delivery guy and the mailman in one day. New record!â
âNah, I mean like a date.â
âA date? With who?â I tease, though I can see where he's goinâ with this.
Mick looks serious now. âWith me.â
I pause, then burst into laughter. âYouâre kiddin' me! You finally pick up that mop to sweep someone off their feet, and itâs me!â
He doesnât laugh, he just looks at me and suddenly the humor drains outta me. âWait, you mean it?â
âYeah.â Mick nods. âI mean it.â Now it's awkward 'cause, heck, I wasnât expectin' feelings to get tossed around like we're at some emotional dodgeball game.
I glance down at my chest, then back up to him. âYou do realize youâre askinâ Tommy P, the guy who used to burp the alphabet, right?â
Mick's grin breaks that serious look of his. âYeah, and I still remember the day you almost choked trying to burp 'x'. I like you, Tommy. Always have. This change⌠it doesnât change that. I just thought maybe nowâs the time to speak up.â
I sigh, giving my bra one last futile adjustment. âAlright, Mick. Letâs give it a shot. But Dave better not start sendin' me flowers, or Iâm callin' HR.â
Mick laughs hard, clapping me on the back. âDeal. Now, letâs get some coffee.â
Who knew living with Mick, pinchin' bras, and fendin' off Dave could end in a date proposal? Lifeâs strange like that.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAIâs large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL¡E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: Write a story from my friends perspective with dialogue where After the great shift which was an event that swapped 75 percent of the countries bodies my buddy had lost his job. He was an auto mechanic and his boss didnât think he could do it anymore since he was now in the body of a Hooters waitress from Brooklyn with a huge rack and a curvy blonde body he also kept her accent. I let him stay with me and I also got him a job as my secretary for the time being. Thereâs no doubt heâs now the hottest in the office. The best part is he is still his old goofy wisecracking self but just in a far sexier body He also still has knowledge about sports which is great to talk about at work with him. Today he was complaining about his bra pinching and the fact that Dave one of my coworkers wouldn't stop checking him out. I'm thinking about asking him out on a date tonight, I hope he says yes. Write my friends Dialogue with a Brooklyn accent
Response: I never thought Iâd see the day when I'd walk into Hooters for wings and walk out with the waitressâs body. But hey, that Great Shift thing didnât exactly come with an instruction manual, right? One day, I'm elbow-deep under the hood of a '67 Mustang, the next, Iâm jiggling in places I never used to jiggle. My boss? Yeah, he was not havin' it. "Tommy," he says, âI just canât see you fixin' cars like that." Like what? With a killer rack and a blonde ponytail bouncin' like a Slinky at a kidâs party? Please. So, my buddy Mick, God bless him, he steps in. "You can crash at my place," he says, and next thing I know, Iâm in a lovely floral-print apron, pinchin' my sides trying to figure out how ladies do this. And donât get me started on this bra! Itâs like itâs been designed by a masochist. "Hey Mick," I holler, adjusting the straps for the umpteenth time, âThis thing is killin' me. Iâd rather be squished under a '74 Ford Pinto!" Mick just laughs. âYou look fantastic, Tom.â Not even bothering to mask that smirk of his. I tell ya, heâs gettin' a kick outta this. âYou know whoâs also gettin' a kick outta this? Dave. You seen the way he stares at me? I swear, Mick, heâs ready to build me a shrine in his cubicle.â Mick chuckles, âHeâs harmless. Anyways, how ya likinâ the secretary gig?" âWell, considering Iâve stapled my finger thrice and almost sent an email to the CEO calling him âCaptain Tightpantsâ? Itâs a party! But hey, gotta pay the bills somehow, right?â Mickâs looking at me now, kinda nervous-like. âTom, you ever think about⌠I dunno, goin' out?â I laugh, swatting his arm. âWhat, like outside? Trust me, Iâve been outâgot hit on by the pizza delivery guy and the mailman in one day. New record!â âNah, I mean like a date.â âA date? With who?â I tease, though I can see where he's goinâ with this. Mick looks serious now. âWith me.â I pause, then burst into laughter. âYouâre kiddin' me! You finally pick up that mop to sweep someone off their feet, and itâs me!â He doesnât laugh, he just looks at me and suddenly the humor drains outta me. âWait, you mean it?â âYeah.â Mick nods. âI mean it.â Now it's awkward 'cause, heck, I wasnât expectin' feelings to get tossed around like we're at some emotional dodgeball game. I glance down at my chest, then back up to him. âYou do realize youâre askinâ Tommy P, the guy who used to burp the alphabet, right?â Mick's grin breaks that serious look of his. âYeah, and I still remember the day you almost choked trying to burp 'x'. I like you, Tommy. Always have. This change⌠it doesnât change that. I just thought maybe nowâs the time to speak up.â I sigh, giving my bra one last futile adjustment. âAlright, Mick. Letâs give it a shot. But Dave better not start sendin' me flowers, or Iâm callin' HR.â Mick laughs hard, clapping me on the back. âDeal. Now, letâs get some coffee.â Who knew living with Mick, pinchin' bras, and fendin' off Dave could end in a date proposal? Lifeâs strange like that.
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