My Gender Reassignment
Let’s say I was really hung up on my personal appearance (observant Slopers will have concluded long ago that I am not, but as with so many things here, this is a thought experiment requiring the suspension of disbelief). I was desperate for the world to think I was attractive. My frail ego and deeply-seated insecurities relied utterly on a positive feedback loop, or my entire psyche would crumble into a heap.
Mercifully, I am provided with an app that notifies me in real time of public approval of my appearance. After primping in front of the mirror for an hour, I draw in a deep breath, open the door, and courageously head out, quietly confident that the good people of Palo Alto will regard me, once again, as one fine-looking sumbitch.
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