I staggered, with my eyes only half open, to the toilet. I lifted the lid and reached for my penis. Grabbing only open air, I panicked before realizin... that the body switch had not been a bad dream. I put the seat back down and sat to pee. God, how humiliating that I had been reduced to this. Me, Peter Alan Hotaling, star quarterback of my college team, the guy that had been on a one-man quest to win the heart, or at least the pussy, of every woman in New York City. Now I was one of them. A. It was eighteen months after you divorced, and Dad had died. Rob was in Australia, he lived there for about four years. I had gone to visit mum straight from work. I may have overdone the aftershave that morning, because it was obviously still lingering. Mum commented on it and asked me what it was, I told her, and she made me make a note of it for her. Two months later it was Christmas, and I had brought mum up to my place for a couple of days. As usual we phoned Rob, and he was waxing lyrical. More

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