Engrossed in his pocket chess set, International Master Laurence Kaufman was last out the door. Laurence was a genius, the next Bobby Fisher. He had no real interest in school, all he really cared about was those 64 squares, 32 white and 32 black. As he often did, he looked mindlessly ahead of him, deep into a continuation of the position on his chess board. Laurence Kaufman was so good at chess that he had recieved the title IM, or Iternational Master, of chess. Because of that he had developed a little ego problem. He always referred to himself as International Master Laurence Kaufman. With a long chin and hooked nose, he was not the most attractive guy int he class. His dating record showed that. He was the the last man out of the class and just as he was walking out of the roomwhen something, a note, hit him in the chest. He reached down, irritated, a picked up the note and read.
If you were a girl. . .
HA!! If I was a girl, funny, funny, spot on. That's a good joke, he thought.Intrigued, he thought of the posibilities. Well, maybe this is worth my time, he pondered. The first question was?