When Ozzie finally stopped to catch his breath,
Avery summed up the case in a single sentence:
"The problem is that you ordered a French Maid Costume,
and now that you're wearing it, you can't take it off."

"That's right," he said. "You make it sound simple,
but it's a nightmare, I'm telling you!"

He paused. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on his forehead.
It was time to gather his thoughts. What was his current status? What were his next steps?

His current status? He was wearing a pair of women's underwear, and it fit like a dream (unfortunately!)
What had he done wrong here?

"Magic?" Laura repeated. "If you mean like stage magic, then no.
And it's not a joke. I mean, at the prices they charge,
it's not a joke that could go very far."

"Wait, wait!" he called. "Where are you going?
You're not mad at me about this stupid Fit-4-U crap, are you? Come on!"

"I wish men could have that experience," Camille said.
"... of being looked at like a piece of meat."
She managed to keep the edge of resentment out of her voice.

"That wouldn't work." Laura responded. "It wouldn't help at all.
Men would *love* being seen like meat, and being treated as sexual objects.
In their minds, it would work in their favor."

Originally posted 2005/02/01

Remember how courteously inefficient all that old correspondence by snail mail used to be? It often seemed as if you would never be able to get anything straightened out by dealing with people who weren't even reading your letters...

Gentlemen;