Toby: Dunia's a Different Sort of Alicia

Vacation's been over for a few weeks, although it never felt like one because of the FBI (somehow not the craziest thing to happen to me in the past year), so I've been back in the air, which is a weird sort of relief.  There's something claustrophobic and scary about being on an airplane, sure, but faced with the prospect of that couple days I was being held running much longer, it's kind of nice to get on a plane in one place and off it somewhere else, regularly, even if you don't often make it out of the airport.  Even better when you're spending time with Dunia and Rosa. 

Rosa was surprised to see us again (or "again" in Dunia's case).  Most flight attendants don't really like the short shuttle routes like Miami-Atlanta, so they tend to try and get longer, less frantic ones on bigger planes as soon as they get some seniority, but since Lambert and I figured there would be a new Alicia and Dunia would need some experience, it would be better to start them off the same way we had.  There's enough flights that we didn't necessarily figure they'd be paired with Rosa again, even though she planned to stick to that route indefinitely because she has family in both cities, so we mentioned her in our letters and said good luck. 

She was happy to see us, at least, and was kind of surprised when Dunia-Alicia wanted to join us for lunch in the food court, then ordered a salad, and then chuckled a little when someone commented on how well my butt filled my uniform in Spanish.  She literally asked Dunia who she was and what she'd done with Alicia, because she was usually kind of bossy and hard to get along with, but Dunia just shrugged and said she didn't know what to say.  Most people are going to figure people change for regular reasons rather than from some crazy curse.  Still, after she walked off to take a call, we were both like "Oh my god, she said the thing!"

She's also picked up the job really quick, which is to be expected, since she had been studying the same employee handbook I tried to memorize in a few days for weeks before going to the Inn, Lambert left fairly useful notes, and I guess I've been paying enough attention to give her pointers when she needed them.  She doesn't have a lot more responsibilities as purser than I do (she handles the checklists and it's usually the one to pick up the intercom to either make announcements or talk to the Captain, which is fine with me, and does some paperwork after we land), and she seems to be doing fine. 

I did kind of laugh when she stayed following Rosa's example of wearing heels in the airport and during boarding but switching to flats before takeoff, leading me to ask if she was trying to land a pilot or some fancy CDC doctor.  She blushed, saying that as far as she knew she still had a boyfriend, but that when she imagined herself doing this as a girl and especially since last year, she was sexy as opposed to just capable.  That' didn't quite become a conversation about how I presented myself, although she's helped me refine my makeup skills a bit while asking how I (in my capacity as a secret white guy) think she's doing with her new skin tone.  She actually finding it kind of annoying because Alicia is a pretty pale Eastern European girl and I guess it's kind of easy to wind up looking like a clown with the wrong amount of blush, and she's apparently dealing with noticeable tan lines for the first time.

We hang out after work a lot more than Lambert and I did, too, and while the friends I inherited from Dunia seem to think it's a bit odd, they've started to warm up to her, which is funny, although I kind of split my time more than having the whole group of us hang out as a group.  She's trying to connect with her roommates, but it's slow going, given how apparently both Harmon and Lambert didn't want to be there.

I'm just glad that we get along so well!  Sure, Dunia and I have been friendly since last year and she seemed excited to meet me in person, but I don't know that I'd be able to be around Gerard as much as she's around me without telling him that he's doing me wrong.  And I might be doing that a lot - sure, he got left with a great big gap to explain, but it's really causing trouble with Mom and my friends at home, and I guess it makes Dunia appreciate my trying not to leave a mess, because I'm sure going to have one to clean up next year.

-Toby/Dunia

Toby: Dunia's Back

So, the way things turned out last week made Memorial Day weekend more of a staycation than I expected. Instead of being on my way home to  North Dakota and trying to explain my absence, I was hanging around the Cortes house, still kind of shook from spending two days in an interrogation room and seeing my life yanked away from me when I finally did get out.  I was actually getting a lot of support, because a really crazy number of Dunia's friends and family apparently know what it's like to be in Federal custody for no good reason.  I guess I shouldn't be surprised about that by now, but I am; they're super-nice people and what they describe doesn't look nearly as suspicious as me having a missing person's property.

Dunia's father Hector had been hanging around the house consoling me in Spanish for the past few days - even though I've been mostly responding in English, something about the whole situation made him feel a little rebellious - and it was kind of a relief when he reluctantly went into work Monday morning because all the people messing up their cars on a holiday weekend were creating a backlog.  Dunia's friend Ceci texted and asked if I wanted to hit the beach, and after checking my phone for other messages, I said to give me a little time to shave my legs, since I'd kind of been lying around the house for the past week, and she responded with a thumbs-up.

I'd kind of been expecting a text from "Alicia", since Dunia had texted me Sunday morning saying It had happened, including photos, and asking if I had time to give the new Alicia a crash course starting Monday afternoon, because we were expected back to work later in the week.  I said of course, but hadn't heard back yet, so I figured I'd get a text at some point and I could make my apologies to Ceci and Ines and help someone else who'd been thrown into a weird situation by the magic inn out.  But I hadn't gotten it yet, so I drew a bath and got in, making sure my hair was up because I'd already spent time blow-drying it in the morning, and let the hot water open my pores and follicles or whatever before soaping up and scraping the hair off.  It's kind of nerve-wracking because it still doesn't feel like the right way to use a razor, and I don't know if girls freak out about shaving close to their pussy or if's just some leftover fear of cutting my dick off.  That last bit is real weird anyway, because I kind of want a neat landing strip even though I don't intend for anyone to see it.

So I do that, get dried off, and put on the American flag bikini that I imagine exists just for that sort of holiday, but I'm kind of ashamed to say I wasn't feeling it when I looked in the mirror, or maybe that's totally natural.  I was headed back to the bedroom to grab another one when I practically jumped out of my skin at the sound of the doorbell, followed by someone pounding on the door.  I turned back around so I could open the door camera app on the phone that I'd left in the bathroom, and when I saw Alicia & Gerard waving, I kind of forgot what I was wearing and raced down the stairs, throwing myself into the man's arms, suddenly crying.  "Oh my god, it's so good to finally meet you in person!  I really hope I haven't let you down too much!"

He gently pushed me away.  "Merci, but I think you are a bit confused?  I am not Dunia, she is."

I turned to look at the new Alicia, who was smiling sheepishly.  "Really?  What is it about this that makes people think it's something to joke about?"

She brought her hand to her chest.  "I swear, I didn't mean to - I thought I made it clear what happened!  Maybe that text didn't send?"  She started to move her hand toward her purse and then decided it didn't matter.  "I'm really sorry!"

I said it was okay, and then suddenly realized I didn't know anything about this new Gerard before getting all in his personal space, and what he might have taken from that.  "Hey, I'm sorry, that was really rude of me!  I'm Toby Watson, although I guess I'm going to be Dunia Cortes for a little while more."

He smiled.  "I'm Geraldine, which I guess will make Gerard easy to remember."  He/she started to reach out for a hug, but then seemed to wonder about it and offered a hand instead.  "But my new friend Dunia is right, you do wear her body quite well."

I suddenly felt self-conscious.  Girls walking around Miami in bikinis isn't that unusual, but were were saying crazy-sounding things, and I looked around to see if the were neighbors about.  "Do you want to come in, have something to drink...?"

Geraldine shook her head.  "No, I think I will let you two get acquainted.  I only came along because my two friends had things to discuss alone."  She turned to Dunia.  "Which way is the bus stop?"  We both pointed up the street, and laughed as we saw what we were doing.  She laughed, said "adieu mes amies", and started off while we waved and I led Dunia inside.

She stopped inside the doorway and took a deep breath, beaming at the lingering aroma of her father's breakfast.  "I have missed this place so much!"  She turned to me and grinned.  "Look at you, just answering the door in that swimsuit, and have you lost weight?  You look fantastic, if I'm allowed to say that!"

I blushed.  "Well, the job has me on my feet a lot and helping folks stow their luggage in the overhead bins; I guess you'll find that out.  And speaking of that, what the hell?  I thought you were supposed to be Gerard!"

She sighed dramatically.  "I know!  I thought I'd be able to talk the person into the next room into trading with me, but Geraldine was sharing a bathroom with her friends, and she was the only one of those lovely French-Canadian retirees who wasn't hitting on me, so I couldn't get into the room that way.  I tried pushing my bed right up against the wall and hoping for the best, but no luck."  She shrugged, and then smiled.  "But this should be fun!  I'm really looking forward to hanging out with you rather than us just going our separate ways, even if it's like this.  I mean, who gets to sort of watch their life from outside, right?"

I didn't know what to say (aside from Dunia taking this way better than you'd expect, Lambert was seldom this cheerful and it was weird seeing a bunch of new expressions on Alicia's face), but fortunately the phone pinged, so I could give it a quick look.  "Uh, Ceci's on her way with Ines, and I kind of decided I wasn't feeling the flag bikini after last week, so I'm gonna go get changed."

"Right, of course.  Hey, do you think they'd mind if I came?  I've got a swimsuit in my bag if nothing in the closet fits."

I suddenly felt awkward.  "I mean, I'd like it, but Lambert and I didn't really hang out much outside of work, and I don't think Ines and Ceci ever met him as Alicia, so I don't know how they'd feel."

It took her a moment to digest that before saying that they'd feel she was over 30 and white.  I said they'll like her, but that was maybe not the day.  She nodded and said that's probably true, and she should probably look at her new apartment anyway.

I told her she was handling meeting me way better than I had seeing Gerard, and we hugged before I went upstairs for a yellow bikini and she went "home".

It made for a weird rest of the day; I've been spending more time with Dunia's friends since New Year's and I'd just gotten to the point where it feels more like hanging out than trying to fool them, but that changes when you meet the real thing in person for the first time.

Gonna be different having her around.

-Toby/Dunia

Toby: Dunia's Not Mad

If I were in jail, she'd be mad, but she sounded more just relieved on the phone after not hearing from me during a big chunk of this crucial period, which is nice.  I'm not saying the past few days were more nerve-wracking for her than me, but it had to be close.

To cut to the chase, as of Friday, Lambert and I had spent a week doing the weird Miami to Boston to Old Orchard and back when we woke still girls route, by which time we were getting to know the other folks waiting to become themselves again a little bit, not really anxious but sort of wondering what was taking so long.  He and I sort of got better acquainted during the drives, and I was kind of blindsided when we arrived in Miami and the Feds were waiting for us again.  Or, more specifically, for me, searching my bag and finding my phone.  The one belonging to Toby Watson.

It shouldn't have been there!  Lambert and I had taken our phones north and left them in a drawer at the Inn, power drained, specifically so that they couldn't be tracked, but I was really tired Thursday night and while I was messing with the bureau, I must have taken it out and put it on top of the charger instead of Dunia's phone, so it charged and then responded that it was in Boston's Logan Airport when my mother did a Find My Phone thing, as I guess she's been doing every day for weeks.  It got passed on to the FBI, who remembered me and Lambert, and so they were waiting for us when we landed.

I guess I'm lucky I didn't wind up in ICE's hands, but they held me as long as they could.  They didn't throw me into a cell, at least, but 48 hours in a small room with a one-way mirror on the side is insane, especially since they won't let you fall asleep and will keep you well-hydrated until you're begging to use the restroom, so they can offer to trade basic dignity for some information.  The lawyer put a stop to that so I didn't actually wet myself, but even then, I sometimes felt like he wasn't entirely on my side - I don't think he wanted to get on the FBI's bad side, so he kept asking me if I had something I could tell them, or at least him, so I could help negotiate.

And I kind of wanted to!  Like I said back in March, Ma raised me to respect that sort of authority, and the way Dunia's friends and family are much more skeptical isn't entirely something I feel in my bones yet.  And even though I know that their comments about how I'm keeping Ma and Lambert's family from finding peace weren't true, they still made me feel bad.  But time was running out, and while there are a lot more stories about people being held indefinitely (mostly when ICE is involved, though), the lawyer said they could only hold me for 48 hours, and running out the clock was the best way to get back to Maine and actually solve the problem.

Just about 48 hours later, they let me out without any explanation whatsoever.  I stumbled out into the street a sweaty, smelly mess, wanting to fall asleep in a bathtub more than anything else, but it felt really good when Dunia's father wrapped me in a bear hug just outside the Federal building's door.  He said something Spanish that I was kind of too frazzled to understand, although it was pretty clearly that he'd been worried and was proud of me for something.  I didn't really know what that could be, but I figured I could ask him later after that bath and a good night's sleep.  I didn't even notice anyone else around us until he turned around and said something about putting me in an impossible situation.

That's when I looked up and saw Lambert - not Alicia, but Lambert.  And... me!

The guy wearing my skin bowed his head, apologizing for what sounded like not the first time, but it was really bizarre.  I guess none of us really have a good idea of what we seem like from the outside, but he was always rushing to get the first word in instead of thinking it over, and maybe suppressing a grin, like everyone thinking he was someone else and looking to him for answers was sort of a rush, and having to come up with a story made it even more exciting.

Obviously, I had a ton of questions, but Mr. Cortes was guiding me to his car, away from them, and spent the whole drive home cursing about how those blancos had caused me so much trouble until we got to the house.  A shower made me feel at least a little better and perked me up long enough to get some food down, but I reached the bed more or less on autopilot and slept until about 10am the next morning.

Even then, it was the noise that woke me up.  Mr. Cortes had gone to work but left a note on the bedroom door about coming home immediately if I needed anything, but otherwise to rest up from my ordeal.  Dunia's phone was so full of messages I couldn't even scroll.  And outside the house, getting an earful in both English and Spanish from the neighbors, Lambert was sitting in the driver's seat of that Porsche that got us into this mess, honking like crazy, while "I" leaned back against the car.  Fed up, I made a throat-slashing motion so that Lambert would cut the noise, and then planted myself just out of grabbing range of the other guy.  "Well, I guess the Inn did its thing.  Who the heck are you?"

"Why, I'm Toby Watson!"  I gave him a glare, not really in the mood.  "Sorry.  My real name's Gerard, I know that was in bad taste, but I couldn't help but say it once it was in my head."

Lambert had gotten out of the car.  "Gerard's got a real problem with saying anything that pops into his head," he said bitterly.

"You said to sell it!"

"I meant that we were embarrassed about the whole thing, not that we had been part of some gay nudist polycule!"

Lambert was about to argue, but I was like "wait, what?" first.

Gerard sighed, and then put his arm around Lambert's shoulder, gesturing in the air with the other.  "Picture it:  Driving across the country, spending all day in that hot car, and then nights in small motel rooms.  It awakens something in us, something we never expected, until we give in to our passion, again and again.  We spend the entire two weeks in Old Orchard Beach, not ready to return home to where nobody understands, and by chance meet up with another couple.  They've got a cabin on an island off the coast of Maine where they hole up for the winter, and invite us to join them.  Excited, but afraid we'll be tempted to back out, we give our phones and the keys to the cars to the nice flight attendants staying in the Inn after us, asking them to keep our secret until we return!  I never imagined that you would be so committed to protecting our reputations, even after our cover story collapsed and we were gone far longer than the few weeks we initially indicated, or when that huge storm in the northeast might have put us in real danger--"

Lambert was shaking his head.  "Like, I was just being vague and hoping folks would get the idea and not press us about something clearly humiliating, but Mr. Improv here has to keep yes-anding!"

Gerard raised an eyebrow to me.  "For someone who gave a wistful sigh when a certain married pilot walked through the airport, he's being needlessly uptight about me making sure his vague story holds up."

I was about to make a comment about how "Alicia" breaking things off with Brock was about him being married rather than something sexual, but cut it off.  "Okay, fine, whatever, I'm grateful you got me out of jail and we can figure out how to fix this later, but what did you tell my mother?"  There was an awkward pause.  "You have talked to my mother, right?"

Suddenly, Gerard was tongue-tied.  "Uh, I texted.  It, you know, didn't feel right to try to explain all this, uh, not in person."

"Well, maybe tone it down when you do!  I don't want to have to fix you coming out to her when we're ourselves again!  And she's, like, Midwestern, not some East Coast person who's okay with all that!"

He rolled his - my! - eyes.  "You say that like there aren't bisexual people everywhere."

"C'mon, man, my life is already going to be messed up by having this eight-month gap in it, don't make it worse!"

He looked like we wanted to say something, then reconsidered it.  "Hey, I'm not looking to cause trouble.  I maybe got a little carried away with the cops, but seeing you, knowing you're supposed to be this, it kind of drives home what a big deal this is."  He reached in to wipe away a tear I wasn't even aware of.  "Just tell me what you need me to know, okay?"

I nodded, then invited them in.  There wasn't as much to tell Gerard as I might like - so many of my high school friends had left town or dropped out of touch - but I made sure he had Dunia's number so that I could hopefully be as helpful to him as Dunia was for me, though hopefully not for as long.

He actually went back to the car before Lambert, which suddenly seemed really awkward.  We actually had talked a lot over the previous week about what we wanted to do when we were ourselves again, and what we'd learned about women, and he'd had a chance to clean up at the hotel overnight, and it suddenly crossed my mind that we'd shared some tight quarters and changing rooms as girls, but he was a man again now.  I think he was having similar thoughts realizing that Dunia was actually kind of pretty, because he blushed a bit.  "Are you going to be all right?  I almost thought of not going back up there until you could come with me."

"Yeah, but then we both might have ended up stuck and who knows how that would have turned out?  I mean, Gerard seems okay, at least."

He smirked.  "You just think he's cute."

"Gross!"  I shook my head to try and purge that thought.  "Well, keep him out of trouble if you can.  I'd hate for anything to happen to me before I got to be me again!"

He laughed and said goodbye, standing in the street for a bit to take Miami in one last time before heading home.

After that, I sighed and called Dunia.  She picked up the phone immediately.  "Toby?  Are you okay?"

"Yeah, although I've got some bad news."

She knew what it was - with just a few days before the second group of folks arrived at the Inn and most of the people going there in early May looking to change back, she probably figured my not texting in three days meant something had gone wrong, and I think she was relieved to hear that I was all right, even beyond joking that she certainly wouldn't want me hurt in any way that she'd have to deal with later.

We sat in silence for a bit after that (what can you say?), and then she cleared her throat.  "Well, my plane leaves Thursday, and I promised this guy his life back, so I guess we'll see what happens.  I guess being Gerard wouldn't be so bad; I've gotten used to being a man and he sure sounds younger than I am right now.  Plus, that makes us a nice tight little circle for... later."

I agreed that probably made sense, and then we tried to chit-chat about other things, although it all seemed really small in comparison to my staying her for at least another month or so and he becoming someone else soon.  But she doesn't seem mad; I was kind of half-expecting her to come up with a list of things that Lambert and I should have done as soon as we changed, but either she didn't have any or figured it wouldn't do us much good now.

So, another few months, at least, as her.  I'm lucky that there are worse people to be, I guess.

-Toby/Dunia

Toby: Dunia's May schedule

I've kind of been wondering how we were going to return to the Inn and our own lives without losing Dunia and the next Alicia these jobs, especially Dunia, as I/we haven't been employed long enough to have a lot of slack.  I'm not sure that what we've hit on quite works, but it's the best we can do:  Basically, we've managed to get assigned to the Miami/Boston route for May, and somehow managed to work out that we're overnight in Boston most of the time, as there aren't many red-eye flights going that direction.  We rent a car at Logan, drive up to Old Orchard, hopefully arriving before whatever happens overnight happens (I guess it's usually around 2am), and then drive back to the airport the next morning.  With any luck, we'll text the airline about how we're really sick, and hopefully that will get us to the week or so that we've blocked off on the schedule, during which Dunia and a new Alicia will return to normal. 

It's not really a great plan; it kind of relies on the idea that the first couple groups at the Inn will be folks trying to get their lives back and will show up the first chance they get.  It also probably wouldn't work at all if the lady who is living as Alicia's mother Magda hadn't gotten a promotion that put her in the scheduling department.  Or if folks from Canada were visiting Florida as much as they used to (I guess a lot transfer at Boston) and they needed us for more than just one round trip a day.  Honestly, I kind of wonder how many folks get changed and then stuck in their new lives because they just can't afford the trip back.  If someone has become me, there's a good chance that, once the reservation is made, gas money is tight and they're not exactly enjoying the Maine restaurant scene while they wait for something to happen. 

But it's the plan we've got, and so far, it seems to be working out.  Nothing happened last night, but we aren't really expecting the place to fill up before the weekend.  Heck, so far as we could tell, there were only five out of 13 there, and it was kind of a weird vibe. It felt like we should have breakfast together or compare notes or something, but nobody really wanted to dwell on the lady seven or eight months, and there was a lot of fretting about explaining how and why we'd been missing.

It is kind of strange being with Lambert outside of work, though.  You might think we'd have bonded or something over all this, but that never really happened.  Instead, we were mostly quiet on the drive north, before taking turns in the bathroom removing our makeup and changing for bed.  I kind of kicked myself when I saw what a big nightshirt she was wearing over loose boxers with a drawstring, while I was wearing the same panties and belly shirt as when I'm sleeping in Miami.  I can joke about how my butt may wind up smaller when I'm a white guy again, but other parts of those panties would squeeze and I'd probably shred the top like the Hulk or something.  I suppose i could sleep in the nude, but boy would that get uncomfortable with a roommate! 

But, nothing happened, so we showered, got dressed and made up for work, and I've been writing this during the drive back to Boston to try and tune out Lambert's podcast.

It's crazy that we probably won't be friends after we get back, but I'll know there's someone in town who went through the same really weird thing as me. 

- Toby/Dunia

Toby: Dunia's Boyfriend (among other things)

So, how awful is it to look at my situation, and the world at large, and be kind of relieved that a bunch of military leave is canceled so that I probably don't have to worry about actually meeting Dunia's boyfriend Hector before we go back to the Inn?  Dunia had said I didn't have to have sex with him when he was originally scheduled to be here this week, but I'm still a guy at heart, and I'd probably find myself identifying with his frustration if he got back from defending America overseas and his girlfriend blue-balled him.  He seems like a nice guy, so I hope he's not going to wind up in real danger, but I'd rather not feel a man inside me. 

Dunia says I should try it, and she wouldn't think any less of me if I hooked up with someone at the other end of a flight just to find out what it was like.  The way she figures it, I can't cheat on Hector, since I'm a different person, even if the world would perceive Hector as being cheated on.  I asked if she's tried her equipment out, and she said just on her own.  She actually doesn't want to cheat (and I believe her, from the way her friends tease me about being kind of goody-goody) but also says it's weird at her new age:  She's actually pretty good looking for an older guy, and I gather the guy she looks like is kind of popular among the widows and divorcees, but even the hottest MILF feels too old for her.

Plus, I gather Lambert has a really bad experience the other week, enough that he's stopped flirting with pilots and says the next Alicia can start fresh, without him giving her a leg up.  Indeed, he's really been head-down for the past week or so, as opposed to bossing folks around, and I think it's just stress from the folks looking for us. 

We're apparently still an open for for the FBI, though we haven't dealt with them since that first time.  Not sure how I feel about them apparently having better things to do, to be honest.  Lambert's father has hired a detective, or a firm, to look for him (people with that sort of money apparently hire companies that have offices all around the country rather than some guy with a seedy office), and he's been poking around.  More around me than him, I guess, because I didn't think to set up a VPN to make it hard to trace when I'm being Toby online.  I only kind of vaguely knew what one was and he acted like everybody uses them all the time, and I'm like, what kind of weird porn are you and your rich friends looking at that you've got to hide it?  I've set one up on Dunia's laptop, and let my phone drain without recharging it and found a decent hiding place, but I'm still kind of wary about trying to be myself online, even in a VPN; anybody nosing around me is going to see me using that and figure I'm doing something suspicious.

Maybe I can say I'm "just" pirating movies or something.

I don't think folks are following me or anything, or at least more than normal.  Worrying about it has maybe made it a little more clear how much I am being watched, though.  There's cameras everywhere, and even when I'm just sort of browsing in a shop in an airport, while wearing my uniform, like I'm going to endanger my job by shoplifting a soda, even I could hide it anywhere in that dress.  It kind of makes me appreciate the guys who stare because they think I'm attractive a little more; it still feels sort of weird, but I feel kind of curious about something specific rather than just vaguely worried, or feeling upset that they're suspicious of me for my skin color or sex, which also makes you kind of feel bad about the initial reaction that they shouldn't because you're really a Midwestern white guy.

Just another month of this, at least.  Remind me to get together with Lambert so we can come up with an explanation for where we've been.

-Toby/Dunia

Toby: Dunia Looks Fishy (I Guess)

Hey, does anyone know a lawyer with experience handling Inn-related situations (Marc)?  The guy that Dunia's father called seems capable enough and has me out of jail, but there are obviously some things we can't discuss with him.  He'd probably have a fit knowing that I'm posting on a public blog, but I don't really know what else to do, and I've got to guess we're not the first people to deal with this. 

It figures that this would happen a soon as we're kind of getting used to living our lives as Dunia and Alicia, though.  We just started working the Miami-DC route at the start of March, which looked like it would be pretty nice - it's the longest one we've had yet, so there aren't quite so many flights needed for a 40-hour week, and even though the schedule often sticks us with a two or three-hour layover, the other attendant's have pointed out that the airport is on a regular Metro line rather than so far away from the city center that you're fighting traffic on a bus (it'll be hilarious if I go back to North Dakota as someone who hates to drive, considering everything) and the food is supposedly fantastic, and all the museums at the Smithsonian are free, so you can kill time there pretty well.  I've gotten pretty used to the job and all the girl stuff, and my Spanish has gotten to the point of almost being understandable (it was actually one of my best classes in high school, but when you consider that I learned it from textbooks that assumed you'd be going to Spain, and practiced with the mostly-Mexican migrants who worked on farms, Dunia's Cuban-American family sounds almost completely different!) although kind of quietly, while Lambert has started flirting with the pilots now that he's mostly over his fear of flying, saying that Alicia is on the wrong side of 30 and he's trying to give the next Alicia a head start. 

Anyway, we were just getting off a pretty late flight when we were met at the gate by a couple guys in suits and sunglasses, who flashed badges to identify themselves as the FBI, saying they had a few questions. 

We actually didn't think it was Inn-related at first.  Part of the training materials was actually about working with the Feds, especially air marshals, and how to spot potential hijackers or possible human traffickers, and another part said to immediately call a union lawyer in a situation like this.  I guess flight attendants get talked into helping smugglers a lot, because we can get past security with just a quick baggage check, and the salary is low enough for it to be tempting.  But by the same token, cops often see young people who can be intimidated into saying we did something we didn't or held long enough to miss out next flight and disrupt a travel for a while bunch of people. 

And on top of that, while I admit that Ma raised me to cooperate with police whenever asked, Dunia and her fellow dark-skinned Latina friends disagree. 

So I clammed up until the union lawyer showed up, but he was only there long enough to tell me that since this wasn't work-related, he couldn't represent me, and advised me to find someone else.  They let me call Dunia's father, who I figured must have a lawyer to handle the business aspects of his garage, and an hour later he showed up, and that's when they finally asked me if I knew Toby Watson and Lambert Allen.

We kind of had a plan for this - back in September, I texted Ma about this exciting opportunity to join the crew of this research boat in the South Seas, where phone and internet service would be kind of spotty.  Since then, we've been following their progress on social media and occasionally reposting images with our own captions to keep the illusion up, answering our email, that sort of thing.  It was kind of thin, but we kind of figured our parents wouldn't look too closely, because Lambert occasionally does things like this on a whim and Ma talks about me getting out of our dying hometown, and this looked pretty good to her.

Apparently, we weren't tracking it too closely, because there was some sort of emergency a few days ago where the ship had to get towed to port, and when my mother got an alert about it, she immediately contacted them to find out if I was okay, only they'd never heard of me.  She got in touch with Lambert's dad, who was connected enough to get the FBI involved, and I guess my phone's GPS readings said it was near the Cortes house, and they had pictures from traffic cams showing "Alicia & Dunia" in Lambert's car, driving from Maine to Florida.  Once they discovered we had stayed in the Inn, and so had Alicia and Dunia, they smelled a rat.

My instinct was to try and come up with an explanation on the spot, which I guess would have been pretty dumb, as I figured Lambert must be in the same situation and there was no way our explanations would match, but the lawyer pointed out that if there was anything there, they would have come to the house with a search warrant, and asked how I should know where Alicia got the car.  Basically, he gave me every instruction he could to shut up, and I did, even as the agents said that they actually liked Alicia more for this, and if I would just tell them what she'd been up to, that would let them find Toby and Lambert faster and give everybody closure, and they'd remember who tried to help.

I guess that sort of stunned me into silence - does everybody, including Ma, think I'm dead?  I wanted to protest, say I wasn't, but I knew I couldn't explain how I knew that and being so sure would just look suspicious.  Of course, I must have looked suspicious anyway, because lying to the FBI and the lawyer Dunia's father sent down is not easy and I must have had every tell possible, but I guess that I was lucky that I froze in a "say nothing" way, instead of accidentally revealing too much.

They eventually let us go, and I kind of started getting paranoid about whether Lambert had clammed up the same way or if maybe he'd tried to throw suspicion away from himself/Alicia and onto me/Dunia.  Dunia's father was really scared when I got home, but also hopping mad that when some gringos went missing in Maine, they immediately looked for the nearest brown folks to blame.  I didn't mention the phone.  I should probably find a way to get rid of it, I guess, but now I'm kind of worried that if I step out the door with it, somebody will grab me to prove I have it.

So there it is:  I'm apparently a suspect in my own disappearance.  It feels like this must happen every winter, but I've got no idea what to do.  Anyone else been in this situation?

-Toby/Dunia

Toby: Dunia's Amigas

One thing about my schedule as a flight attendant being kind of random and longer than the number of hours I get paid for is that it makes finding time to hang out with Dunia's friends and family difficult.  I missed the family gatherings for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and though I talk with her friends online (at first at the real Dunia's prompting but more on my own these days) I don't see them in person very often.  I've gotten better at it (there was apparently a thing going around group texts back in October that Dunia had become a high and mighty bitch because I didn't compliment someone on her new hairstyle because I didn't recognize her with her new hairstyle), but I stopped worrying about it after a while, just thinking about the number of high school friends I've drifted away from since graduation even though we still live pretty close to each other.  It just happens, right? 

Maybe.  But other things also happen, like New Year's, which Dunia and her friends have been ringing in on the beach since high school.  Even though I've been living here and flying to other warm-weather cities for a few months, it hadn't totally sunk in that it was still summer weather - in my head, it just hasn't gotten cold yet.  But right around Christmas, I started getting texts from Ceci, Danica, and Ines asking what my schedule was looking like, and after a quick check in with Dunia, I checked her social media history and saw that they did in fact hit the beach every New Year's Eve. 

In bikinis. 

Now, I've gotten kind of used to having a Dunia-shaped body by now.  I still have a minor panic attack on the first day of her period, but what i see in the mirror or while taking a shower every morning doesn't shock me, and I've more or less of come to accept that what's in the closet makes a certain sort of sense.  It's hot enough that you want some skin exposed to sweat from, the colors I thought were ugly at first look pretty nice on my darker skin, her wedge sandals are comfortable and give me a little extra height, and I'm even okay with my breasts being pushed up and together by her bras and halters.  The heels do make my ass sway, but I keep telling myself that it made Dunia feel confident and maybe I'll feel the same by the time spring comes. But I still mostly avoided even touching the drawer with swimsuits or the racks with club stuff.

No avoiding it, though, and I knew from experience by then that a girl takes a while to get ready, especially given that I still do a lot step-by-step from checklists on the phone rather than having any real instinct for it.  I spent a couple hours painting nails, doing makeup, and fixing with my hair before sending outfits to Dunia and being told that she wouldn't necessarily have chosen the belted skirt and crop top combo herself, but that it was probably okay for someone as nervous about things getting loose or coming off as me.  By the time I was done, Ines arrived to pick me up.  Ceci was already in the passenger seat, and Danica would join me in the back. 

They hadn't seen Dunia/me for more than a passing word since September, and wanted to know all about the glamorous life of a flight attendant, so I could supply plenty of small talk amid all their relationship drama.  They pulled no punches when it came to how their ex-boyfriends were pigs (you hear about how guys have no idea how dirty or frank girls talk when we aren't around, but it's still an earful!) while also making insinuations about what Dunia's man was doing while overseas.  I defended him, although I've only really talked with him online, tentatively because his hours don't really line up with Dunia's and I'd rather consult her before saying something that could mess things up.  Maybe he's dumb enough to cheat on Dunia (not getting into the looks I've inherited, she's pretty cool), because I can say from experience that guys will do really stupid things if the opportunity comes, but if Dunia doesn't think so, I'm not acting like I think so. 

At least it let me say "I've got a boyfriend serving overseas and I don't think he'd like that" more that night than I had for the rest of December.  Most guys were pretty chill about it - there were a lot of girls in the club showing way more skin and looking more eager to hook up than I was, including Dunia's friends.  Ceci seemed to be the one most eager for some sort of rebound fling, to the point where Ines was asking me to help keep an eye on her, while Danica was more looking for the best dancer, because she's really good, like she seems to almost get bored just casually bopping around and shaking her butt.  She's got an eye for the guy who can pick her up and spin her, for example, and sometimes the rest of us would just stop what we were doing and watch. 

By the time we headed for the beach, there were a couple guys in tow - Ceci hopped in her new friend's passenger seat and I moved up front so Danica and her guy could make out.  That left me chatting with Ines, who seems pretty cool, before we got to their favorite public beach. 

I had enough rum in me (aside from Dunia being Cuban-American, it's something I don't feel too girly ordering but which doesn't seem too masculine for her) that I was pretty bold bringing my handbag with the little green bikini into the bathroom stall.  I figured that I'd put on bra and panty sets dozens of times by this point, and the only difference was that I just wouldn't continue getting dressed.  But by the time I had my hand on the door latch so I could go to the sinks and touch up my makeup, I either suddenly sobered up a bit or something, because even with a matching wrap on my hips, my ass suddenly looked twice as huge and inviting as usual, my boobs seemed super bouncy, and the thought that any of the knots I had twisted myself to tie in ways you don't learn in the scouts could either come loose on their own or at a guy's slightest pull was echoing through my head.

Didn't happen, thankfully, and we had a good time - we don't really have food trucks in North Dakota like they do here, there was a lot of great music, and there were fireworks.  I guess that's more "big city" than Miami particularly, although we probably wouldn't have been wearing swimsuits if I'd wound up in Minneapolis!  I did kind of find my head spinning because of it, though:  Girls in bikinis was always exciting and full of potential and distracting (Ma would go on about how I shouldn't let them distract me or make me give into temptation), and here I was, walking around the beach, getting fried plantains and the like, and it's kind of a head-trip that I'm hanging around with three girls who are acting like it's not really sexy at all most of the time, just talking about their lives, and the fact that I can sort of slip into just chatting and not really be thinking about what dudes are thinking of the show I'm offering, or even feel like I'm putting myself on display, but then I'll notice just how amazing Ceci's rack is and look away embarrassed and wonder if guys are looking at my ass.  I mean, obviously, some are, because they will come right up and tell me, sometimes in Spanish, which sounds even weirder, but more on that another day.

It was probably the most fun I can ever remember having on New Year's Eve, though, even if it did end with me being driven home by a very hot girl while we were both wearing bikinis but nothing beyond that.  Apparently Dunia coming home practically naked isn't a big deal to her Dad, who was asleep in the recliner until I maybe closed the front door too loud, which I guess isn't a big deal, but, like aren't fathers supposed to be more paranoid about their daughters running around half-naked?

Anyway, I'm glad I did it, and I'm feeling less nervous about answering Dunia's friends' texts now, even if my weird schedule legitimately has me not able to meet up with them that often.

-Toby/Dunia

Toby: Dunia's Dream Job

Hey, it's been a while, but apparently which flight attendant crew works which flights or gets any time off at all during the busy part of the year is based on seniority, and I'm absolutely the lowest on the totem pole, so the past month in particular has just been crazy, especially considering things were kind of slow before that, although sort of frustrating because of how all this works. 

I was kind of a nervous wreck that first day, because I'd never been on a plane before, and while I crammed all the manuals and stuff more than I had ever studied for a test in high school, this seemed like it would be really different.  I tried to tell myself that I picked up how to work any piece of big equipment that got thrown at me on the farms pretty quickly, and it's not like I would be flying the plane, but I still feel kind of awkward walking around as Dunia on level, non-moving ground, and should probably consider myself fortunate that high heels aren't part of the uniform.  Dunia likes her wedges, but I'm in sneakers or sandals most of the time. 

I got to the airport early on the first day - in addition to never having been on a plane before, I hadn't used a bus since junior high and wanted to give myself enough time - feeling kind of ridiculous in my uniform with the little neck scarf and hat, afraid I'd suddenly turn back to myself and look ridiculous, or that I'd be stopped when I tried to use my employee ID to bypass the line for passengers.  You'd think I'd give off some sort of wrong vibe, but apparently not. 

Or maybe I do but people just assume it's for something else, like it just being your first day in a new job.  There was a three-person cabin crew that first day and for most of the first month, because we were assigned to a fairly small plane doing shuttle flights between Miami and Atlanta, and when I got there, I was greeted by a Latina woman a few years older than me who introduced herself as Rosa and looked at me a little strange, but that was apparently because I wasn't wearing nearly as much makeup as she thought I should.  "You're very pretty without it," she said, "but people expect a more visible effort, you know?  Like, people get nervous flying,  and want to see you looking like you're ready for anything.  Especially you and me, you know?"

I didn't, but apparently a lot of Latina women go really heavy on the makeup, or at least that's the stereotype.  I've been Dunia for nearly three months now and it seems like a lot of lines that seem very clear back home are blurry here.  I'd brought some cosmetics in my bag - at the time I was just starting to figure them out, but at least grasped that I might have to fix something mid-air, before finding out what things cost in airport terminals - and Rosa knew exactly what to do, even with my darker skin.  By the time she was done, I wasn't sure what I thought, because it was the kind of look that kind of works for me even though I always tell myself that I like girls who don't use a lot of makeup more, so I was kind of judging myself in a couple ways, but also thinking that, yeah, this is kind of what looks appropriate for someone in this kind of job, like, kind of fake, but in a way that says you're at work and trying to present yourself well and this maybe isn't who you are in the off hours. 

It was pretty close to time to report to our gate when Lambert ran into the ladies' room right past us so he could puke in a stall.  Rosa's eyes went wide - she later confessed that she was having flashbacks to someone at a different job who showed up hungover a lot - and I shooed her out, saying we'd spent the last few weeks together.  Once I was pretty sure there were no actual girls in the room, I walked over.  "You okay, dude?"

He looked down at a bit of his hair that had gotten in the way, thinking a bit before reaching for some toilet paper to wipe it off.  "Man, I can't do this.  I get so nauseous and half the time I take Nyquil or something before takeoff!  I should just go in and quit!"

"Hey, don't leave me alone!  Just think, I don't think Dunia would want this job so much if it wasn't a good one.  Besides, you've got Alicia's stomach and inner ear or whatever, so you shouldn't get airsick, right?  They've been doing this job for years."

He didn't look totally convinced, but didn't say anything.  We got his hair cleaned up the best we could with hand soap and paper towels, and then got to work. 

That first day was kind of strange in every way, but Lambert and I both did okay.  Miami to Atlanta is a short enough flight that we barely have time to do anything between takeoff and landing, although some folks just absolutely need a coffee in midair, or more often one of those little bottles of alcohol to calm their nerves.  Confidentially, I kind of think half of them are just looking to have one of us lean over a row of seats so that they can reach up and "accidentally" touch our boobs.  I flinched pretty badly the first couple times, but after that I just sort of figured that's what guys were going to do.  My butt was also a very tempting target, and I kind of like that even less.  Boobs are just weird and don't belong on my body, so I don't really feel upset like I do at having my butt slapped by a man, which feels really inappropriate. 

Lambert has bigger boobs than me, so he was more of a target for that, but he seemed to get over his fear of flying pretty quickly.  Maybe It's just that Alicia/Harmon got used to it on a way that transferred over to him, but i think he just likes bossing people around more than he hates flying.  Not that he can really boss the passengers around, but he can raise his voice when warranted, and he really puts on a good show of being senior to me and Rosa.

It's not so bad once you get used to the weird sensation of the plane moving.  Apparently Harmon called it being "a glorified waitress", but I kind of prefer it to farm work.  There are a lot of people who are kind of jerks either because they're nervous or just jerks - my mom is a waitress on the ground and she's got stories! - but you kind of get used to it. 

The pays not really great, though, I guess because it's a job that a lot of people think would be fun for a while, but also because you don't really get paid while you're in the airport.  I gather some airlines don't start paying you until the cabin doors close before takeoff or after they open on landing, even though dealing with people who act like what they were told about carry-on bags doesn't apply to them is maybe the most frustrating part of the job, but you definitely don't get paid for the time between working a flight from Miami to Atlanta and the one back.  Even on days when you've got three round trips, that's not quite 8 hours of work even though you're out of the house early and back late, and before holiday travel started, we didn't have a lot of those full days.  I don't find it a huge problem - farmers back home love to find ways to keep you off the clock and I don't have a lot of living expenses starting with Dunia's father - but it really pisses Lambert off, especially when we wind up sick in the Atlanta airport of a few hours and he's boxing about how this isn't helping pay the rent on Alicia's apartment.

Dunia kind of eats every detail about it up, though, demanding I fill her Instagram up with pictures from her first day and anything interesting that happened afterwards, and kind of loves cute selfies of me/her/us in the uniform.  I joked about her being a pervy old man once and she seemed hurt, and I get it; she'll have all these first times in a few months but she'll have to act like they're old hat and wants to have some sort of record of the way she's going to feel.  And it's not like I'm not kind of enjoying it.  It's kind of nice to put on a uniform and have people kind of jealous of your job and get to help folks like you know what you're doing, and i do look kind of nice.  I could do without folks slapping my ass as I walk by, but they're going to do that to Dunia as she walks to the grocery store.

I'll be kind of glad when the schedule gets a little less crazy in the new year, though, especially since Lambert and I will be resigned to a longer route. 

- Toby

Toby: Dunia & Papi

(Wrote this October 1st, forgot to hit send!)

Doing this again to try and forget that I'm in a flight attendant's uniform and will soon be flying to Washington, doing a job i haven't trained for at all. 

The strange thing is, that feels like the first thing that had me really nervous since arriving in Miami.  It seems crazy to say that, because nobody else seems to really click into new lives quite so fast, but as soon as Lambert dropped me off in front of this pastel-colored building, her father ran out and squished me to his chest.  "Where were you?  Everyone has been so worried!"

"We, uh, got lost in the woods.  Ms. Polawski... Alicia... had this 'glamping' idea, and while she backed a ton of extra food, she apparently forgot a compass, and after these other guys found us...  Well, it was just so embarrassing..."  I felt embarrassed saying this, but I guess that made it sound believable, because he just kissed the top of my head, said I didn't ever need to ashamed to tell him anything, and then picked up my luggage, apparently not noticing that there were two suitcases instead of one.

I'd seen pictures and video of Enrico Cortes on Dunia's phone, but somehow hadn't expected a few things.  You can always smell the garage on him, for instance, even underneath the Old Spice (also: Dunia has an unnervingly good sense of smell), and even when he's so happy to see you that you think he'd overdo a hug, you can sort of feel that he knows when to stop.  He's also strangely tidy - his mustache is perfectly trimmed and every room in this little house is so well-organized that I haven't had to arouse suspicion by asking where anything is in the past week, or at least every room except for Dunia's bedroom.

It wasn't quite dark yet but I was tired, and fell asleep practically as soon as I sat on the bed.  When I woke up the next morning I saw my shoes were neatly placed at the foot of the bed and I'd been covered with a light blanket, which was kind of creepy, but maybe that's just what fathers do when they see their daughters sprawled out with the door open?  I was kind of fuzzy - this was, like, my third day as Dunia and I was kind of jolted awake by her face in the mirror, but let my nose lead me downstairs to where he was scrambling some eggs, and perked up on seeing me.  "Hey, you're up early!  Although I guess you went to bed pretty early for you, so it balances out.  Join your old man for breakfast?"

"Uh... okay."  I sat down and he handed me a plate.  I was a little nervous at first - there were bits of peppers in the eggs, but it wasn't bad at all.  The orange juice was fresh-squeezed, too, and for as silly as I feel silly getting all wide-eyed at my first sip because it's nothing compared to what else is new, it really was different. 

Her dad noticed and chuckled.  "They don't have the fresh aid up in Maine, huh?"  I imagine it's like North Dakota, where they have it in the fancy places folks like Lambert so at but which is out of my range, but obviously didn't say anything  "Well, I'm off to the shop.  Anything you need me to bring home?  I got those bath oils you wanted while you were away, and I imagine you're looking forward to that after your adventure!"

Taken aback, I lifted an arm and smelled my armpit.  I've smelled worse, but I imagine a girl who asks her dad to pick up bath pills doesn't often go 48 hours without showering, especially in this humidity.  I let him awkwardly hug me goodbye, and then made my way to the bathroom 

There was a whole line of products against one wall, and I sarcastically took a picture and texted it to Dunia:  "What an i supposed to do with all this?"

It was only a minute or so before she texted back: "Hahahhaha, that must seem like a lot

"Why don't you just get in and soak and I'll write something up?"

I was kind of surprised by the quick response. "Isn't it like 5an there?"

"4! No daylight savings time

"Guess I'm an early riser now and still sort of on eastern time"

I turned on the faucet and put a door under the tap until it seemed okay.  "That sucks"

"Could be worse, I guess.  I'm kind of hot for an odd man"  She sent a selfie of a silver-haired man in a wide-beater.  She did look like she was in pretty decent shape.  "Now you"

I tried to be cute, throwing up a v-sign and posing with my mouth open so I didn't look annoyed to be her.  There was a brief pause, and she texted back not to make hand signs unless I really meant it.

Then:  "Hey don't be shy about washing my v, ok?  I know it's weird - BELIEVE ME - but I want EVERYTHING in good shape next year"

"Um, k"

She didn't respond door a minute or two, so I took a deep breath, stripped, and lowered myself into the bath.  I winced a bit when the warm water touched my new private parts, but once I was in, it wasn't a big deal.  I mean, it was weird, but it wasn't arousing or anything.

I exhaled and looked down.  Dark-ish skin, perky breasts, tight waist, landing strip, butt flaring out, pretty nice legs.  Little landing strip above a slit, yes, but it kind of hit me that this at least looked tidy, compared to what Dunia must be seeing from the same angle.

I just sat there for a bit.  The warm water felt good, the house was quiet except for some birds outside.  It was kind of peaceful.  I closed my eyes and let my head sink below the water, feeling my hair float on the surface, then popped back up.  That felt like enough doing nothing, so I picked up a lavender-scented beauty bar and started rubbing it on my body.  My skin was soft, and kind of sensitive, but it wasn't ...  Like, you spend a lot of time as a guy thinking about how everything about girls is sexy, but it's actually just skin muscle and fat the way my own body is.  Even when washing my chest, it was like, there's weight and mass there, but touching it doesn't make me go nuts or anything.

Anyway, I got washed up and smelling nice, and once I'd tried off I walked back to her room to get dressed.  Just a simple t-shirt and shorts - it was in the 80s - and spent a little time zooming with Dunia afterward, as she went through all the stuff in the bathroom and said what it was for.

We zoomed a lot over the past week, and I get the impression that's not normal - like, a lot of folks just get thrown into a new life without a lot of help, but I kind of get the impression that Dunia is kind of bored between trips and is in kind of a similar situation to me - she's getting instruction on driving an 18-wheeler and kind of worried about it, so when she has a chance, she's helping me with makeup and going through her Instagram feed to fill me in on everyone.  I complained about her wardrobe a bit but she said I'd like having this butt when her girlfriends get me out dancing and the halters make it look like we've got enough up top to balance them.

And her dad...  Her dad is kind of great!  He's fretting a lot because of the whole going missing thing, but seems really proud of her, and even when he comes home from a long day at the garage smelling like grease, he likes to cook Dunia's favorite foods and ask how my day was, and when I say I've spent the whole day studying, points out that I should have some fun, too.

I've only seen Lambert a couple of times over the past week - I gather that Alicia is the new roommate in an apartment with a few other flight attendants, having just relocated to Miami from New York, and apparently the previous Alicia didn't make a very good impression.  I don't think he's ever had a roommate before.

Anyway, I'm leaving out a lot, I know, and getting into too much in other spots, but I'm about to start my first shift and I'm nervous.  Wish me luck!

-Toby/Dunia

Toby/Dunia: A Much Longer Trip Than I Expected

So... Hi.  I'm afraid that I don't have any sort of introduction where I'm just me saying what I'm doing in Maine.  I kind of didn't even realize this place had a blog attached until after I became this girl. 

It's this sort of thing common, or is it all about the curse or whatever?  I've never really traveled much, or at least not to cities.  We used to go to some of the closer National Parks when I was a kid, but Ma had to sell the camper after the cancer took Dad, and even if there had been money we were never really sure there'd be a job to come back to if we took time off.  I didn't really think about it much, though, I guess because I never had it to miss and there weren't a whole lot of kids in my high school who were going on European vacations.

There were some folks with money around, though their kids went to private schools.  I guess Lambert was one of them.  I didn't know him before I answered the ad; he must've been a couple years ahead of me anyway.  He bought a car on eBay, and since he never liked to fly, he put something in a local Facebook group looking for someone to drive to Bangor and back with him.  Beat the hell out of my real job, especially since they were cutting hours due to the market for soybeans drying up or something.  He seemed all right and I guess he figured I could be trusted with his car on the drive back, so it was a done deal pretty quick.

We stopped at the Inn the night before driving up the coast - Lambert found it online and apparently the last two-week block of the year was an especially good deal for when you didn't necessarily know when you'd be in and out.  We got there on Monday, crashed for the night, and then started for Bangor in the morning.  We spent a couple hours after lunch inspecting and test-driving the Porsche - well, I kind of stood around for that - and then I was back in the BMW for the ride back.  We got dinner at a restaurant on a boat in Portland before stopping at the Inn for the night.

I was awoken by a high-pitched scream, bolting up in bed and looking on the other side of the room where there was a topless woman holding her breasts.  It was clearly the same room we'd been in last night - Lambert's stuff was on the end table - and I was a little fuzzier from the previous night's beers than I should have been, so I asked who she was.

"I'm Lambert Allen - who the fuck are you?"

"It's me, Toby!"  That when I noticed my voice didn't sound right in my ears and my hair was long enough for some  to be in my eyes.  "Uh, at least I think I am."  Hung over enough to go check, I stood from my bed and walked across the room to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.  "How in the heck?"

As you can tell from the subject line, there was a girl in the mirror, about my age, but I was shorter.  Not like super-short - I was six-foot-two and lost about six inches or so.  It made the t-shirt I'd been wearing really loose, although I could see a vague shape of breasts and nipples under it.  I was kind of surprised my boxers hadn't fallen down, but my butt was enough to hold it up.  I guess that may go with being Latina - my skin wasn't quite black but a pretty dark brown.  I pulled the neckline out to look down and then felt inside my boxers - I was all girl.

It woke me up and I ran back into the bedroom, where Lambert was pulling a suitcase out from under his bed and opening it.  He said "you have got to be shitting me" as he lifted the flight attendant's uniform that was on top out.

I did the same, only the top layer on mine was a letter "to the new Dunia Cortes".  It described the Inn's spell, and laid out a bit about the life I was inheriting.  Shes my age, 23, from the Miami area, Cuban-American although it was her grandparents that came from Cuba as children as opposed to someone more recent.  She had just been hired as a flight attendant and was expected to shadow veteran Alicia Polawski, but wound up following her to Maine when she wouldn't cut vacation short.  She lives with her father in "Little Havana" and has a boyfriend, but Hector is in the Army and stationed overseas.  She's become a retired truck driver in Phoenix, which feels as crazy as me being her.

Lambert's letter filled in some blanks; it turns out that Alicia Polawski used to be an college professor and a guy, but he got bored and decided to move on, saying the new Alicia could keep her life or not and he didn't care (she didn't care?).  He also seemed to have invited Dunia to join him specifically because it didn't look like there were going to be 13 people to trigger everything otherwise.  This Harmon guy sounds like a piece of work. 

If there were any people who has been through this before, I didn't meet them, aside from the hot dog vendor who said the thing that freaked me out the most, that there was nobody staying at the Inn after us until spring, so our lives and identities would be in a sort of limbo until then.  He said it's not so bad, because we'd have first dibs on our room and explaining not being around is easier than fixing a mess someone else makes of your life, but that's almost right months!  What's my Ma going to do without me, to start? 

Lambert seems to be more in a daze than I am.  He thought he might go home anyway, but apparently Alicia looks a lot like his last couple stepmothers and his dad is on the prowl again.  He also really doesn't like flying, and I almost wonder if it's bad enough for him to quit Alicia's job ahead of her next shift and try to live on his credit cards until then.  I'm not going to do that - this is apparently Dunia's dream job and she seems nice enough - although there's a pretty big handbook to study in the next week or so.

(It's a lot!  It looks simple enough on TV and in the movies, but I'm already afraid of screwing up the details or having to give someone CPR in midair!)

What he is sure of is that he's not leaving his new Porsche behind.  One of the coupons in the flyer that pointed us to Cary's hot dog truck and this blog is for a place that offers long term parking and storage, but he says there's no way he's leaving his new baby in some beach town that empties out for the winter.  He suggested we just do what we had been planning to do, me driving the BMW and him driving the Porsche, just south on Route One rather than west to North Dakota, but i said that I sure as heck wasn't going to get pulled over driving someone else's car as a Latina woman, so he reluctantly decided to park that one for the winter.  It's probably a good thing we initially packed pretty light, because it's not like the little sports car has  the trunk space to handle four people's luggage if Lambert and I had packed like Dunia and Harmon/Alicia.

It's weird as heck.  I'm sitting in the passenger seat of a really expensive car, and every time I look down rather than forward, I see how dark and slender my arms and legs are, and I've definitely got a figure even if my pink t-shirt doesn't show the boobage that Lambert's top does (we were not left a lot of clean clothes, and I really struggled to pull these shorts onto my big new butt this morning).  When we do get to Miami tomorrow, some guy is going to think I'm his daughter, and then I'm going to have to start working on airplanes starting next Wednesday despite having barely been out of North Dakota before.  I'm kind of tapping this out on my phone just so that I'm not staring at my body or Lambert (he's a little older, but pretty sexy) or talking in our new voices, something to do, and maybe find out if we're doing the right thing taking our stuff along to our new homes.  What I've seen of the entries here, folks usually just leave things there, but maybe not for months.

Maybe this will be my only post because I'll be too busy soon enough.  We'll see.

-Toby/Dunia