This time I decided that the best course of action would be to find a couple of somewhat decent homeless people and ask them for information. Most passersby suggested I visit the same vintage markets where you could buy a handmade designer handbag or an antique gramophone, but that wasn't exactly what I needed.
After walking around the city for about an hour, I stumbled upon Mary. A woman in her forties, worn by life, who had previously served in the military, but life had unfolded in such a way that she had become homeless. If you think Mary had given up, you'd be sorely mistaken. Her health didn't allow her to do something that would earn her money, so she worked wherever she could.
The funniest thing was that even though her house had been taken away due to the debts her alcoholic mother had taken on, Mary didn't have any problems with housing. She had simply set up a tent near some bridge, right by the side of the road, and had been living in it for over five years. A large army tent protected her from the rain and snow, and there was so much space in it that she even installed a decent-sized television inside! I still didn't understand how she managed to get electricity into her tent, but through a slightly open flap, I could see SpongeBob catching jellyfish with a net and laughing.
Mary immediately understood that I had run away from home and began to give me a lecture about life on the streets. I knew some of the details already, but each country and city has its own rules and regulations. After a rather thorough conversation, I began to better understand how things worked here. Where to get a free meal, where to spend the night for a couple of bucks, and where not to go to avoid meeting costumed or not-so-costumed freaks and mutants.
As I had suspected, there were certain privileges and perks for males. I could walk into city hall and demand permission to stay in a halfway decent hotel, and the city authorities would be required to pay for my room. Not that I planned to take advantage of this, but I remembered the information.
Thanking Mary, I hurried to one of the addresses she gave me. It wasn't a flea market, but a huge second-hand store where you could both donate your things and buy something for yourself. The advantage of this store was that it was open seven days a week, whereas the best flea markets only opened on weekends.
After selling all my warm winter clothes to the administration, I bought two sets of spare light summer clothes. As practice showed, wearing the same clothes for a long time, especially in the heat, isn't ideal.
After putting my new clothes in my backpack, I was about to leave when someone kicked me in the side and squeezed closer to the counter.
"Hey, Charlie!" piped up a girl who was a head shorter than me. "How much do these glasses cost?"
The Asian-looking girl, with a flat chest but a quite wide backside, caught my eye, and I didn't really mind her lack of manners. She was wearing a purple top that didn't hide her stomach and short, cheeky denim shorts.
"Lee," the seller shook her head disapprovingly. "Don't shove my customers, especially guys. You're acting like a real brat!"
"I didn't shove anyone!" she retorted, giving me an expression that was part mocking, part amused. "And if I nudged him a little, it's his fault for lingering by the counter too long. There's a line, by the way! So how much do the glasses cost?"
"Ten bucks," the seller snapped, crossing her arms under her chest. She was clearly irritated!
I just snorted at the whole thing. This Lee definitely piqued my interest. Sure, she was rude to adults, but that's typical for teenagers. What was more important was that she wasn't the least bit shy around a guy. This was the first time in this world that I'd met a girl who didn't treat men like fragile vases that could be shattered with a careless word. It seemed that in just two days, I was already tired of being treated like a fragile sperm-filled jug!
"Charlie, what's going on? These are just glasses! How can they cost so much!?" The short-haired brunette shook the large, rectangular, bright purple glasses with a fury.
"Expensive brand," the seller muttered, frowning even more.
But the teenager seemed to completely misunderstand or simply didn't want to understand the hints. She was great at making faces and widening her naturally narrow eyes! So much so that I couldn't resist and placed ten bucks on the counter.
Both of them turned their heads towards me and stared as if I had just turned into Pikachu and said, "Pika-pika!"
"What?" I asked, noticing that the little one's jaw had dropped. "That's for the glasses, consider it a gift."
Charlie behind the counter coughed, Lee dropped her jaw to the floor, and I just sighed heavily, turned around, and headed for the exit.
They're strange here, to say the least, but I feel like the hardest thing to adjust to in this world will be dealing with these little oddities. I've been to more exotic dimensions before, but at least in those, it was clear from the start that everything would be different. Here, it's like I ended up in a perfectly normal universe, yet these small glitches keep throwing me off!
The girl caught up with me about five minutes after I stepped outside. From what I saw, she had accepted my gift after all. The glasses were perched on her head, acting as her new accessory.
"Hey, wait!" she panted, calling after me. "Where are you rushing off to?"
"Training," I shrugged. "I'm hoping to compete in the next Olympic Games in race walking."
My legs hurt so much from yesterday that I could really use some painkillers, but I silently endure it and keep pushing my lower limbs. My new body is terrible when it comes to physical capabilities. As a non-trained teenager, I might be considered a beauty icon, but compared to my body from my past world, it's so underwhelming that I feel like crying!
Lee caught up with me, and after taking a few seconds to catch her breath, she said, "Guys don't compete in the Olympics."
She looked at me so oddly that it became clear I had said something foolish.
"Why?" I asked curiously.
"Well, you... you guys are weak? Everyone knows that. Men don't serve in the army, and you don't do sports! Women are stronger than you, nothing can be done about it."
"What about ballroom dancing?" I asked seriously.
"What?"
"Ballroom dancing," I repeated patiently. "Do men do classical ballroom dances? Do they do it in dresses or tuxedos?"
"In tuxedos, of course," the girl said, surprised.
"That's good," I said, feeling a weight lift from my chest. "That's very good. So not everything is lost."
"What are you talking about?" the girl frowned.
"Ah, just some guy stuff," I waved it off. "By the way, what's your name?