Clay understands that you're very concerned about the strange things happening to you. He tries to assure you whatever's wrong is only temporary. To cheer you up, he offers to take you out to dinner.
You head to your favorite pizza place. Since you haven't been eating much lately, you order a salad, two dozen wings, and share a large pepperoni pizza with Clay.
"If that doesn't take care of your waist line, nothing will," he says in jest. Despite his assurances, you remain skeptical.
"Would you like a refill, ma'am?"
You look up at the waiter carrying a pitcher of water. "Ma'am?" you say back to him.
Recognition dawns on his face when he hears your voice. "Oh, I'm so sorry," the waiter says, blushing. "I just thought... Sorry. Would you like a refill for your water?"
You decline and he goes away. Clay starts examining your face intently, and you don't like it. You ask him what he's looking at.
"Uh, I'm trying to see how he could have mistaken you for a girl...and to be honest, with that hair, it's not hard to imagine."
"Plenty of guys have longer cuts," you reply.
"But there's something about yours. With those long bangs, and the way it's sort of fluffier... I dunno."
You ask him to drop the subject as you stuff another slice of pizza into your mouth.
It's still raining as you head back to the apartment. Clay brought his umbrella, which is large enough for the two of you share it. He talks idly about the bad weather, which is supposed to linger for at least another day. Although it feels comforting to be close to your friend, he's only making you depressed. Your bangs fall in front of your eyes again. You don't bother to brush them away. Things have gotten so frustrating all of a sudden. You just hope tomorrow is a better day.