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The Great Shift- Mulligans Part Two

Synopsis- Once gotten up to speed by her caddie, the former George Tompkins now known as Se Ri begins playing the LPGA Tour. Soon afterwards she and Mike, her co-worker from Pepsi-Cola, are re-united.

At least five days or more usually six a week, I played at least eighteen holes a day of golf at Bay Hill till Christmas of 2000. These days of golf also included an hour of warming up and at least two to three hours of practice after a round. With a round of golf averaging four to five hours, I was doing fifty to sixty hour weeks. Whoever said being an athlete was a cozy job had never been a professional athlete.

The talk we had that first night proved to be beneficial. Tree was right, I needed to start thinking like a pro golfer if I were to become one. I had to always be thinking at least one shot ahead of where I was.

My second day out at Bay Hill got me a 77. There were no horrendous blunders like the previous day, but I couldn't make one of the five potential sand saves I had. It was another long afternoon in the practice bunker.

For the seven days after that I shot consistently, one round after another. Usually strong from tee to green, putting was getting better, but if I missed the green I was usually in trouble. I shot rounds of 74, 76, 75, 75, 73, and 74.

By now Tree was not even playing when we went out; instead, he did his true job and acted as my caddy, and in the process would study every shot I made and between shots tell me what I did right or wrong. I did my best to listen to what he said.

On the ninth day at Bay Hill I tried another approach. Feeling a little better about drawing the ball, I tried exactly that on the first hole. A long, slow draw off the tee that got a good bounce and rolled to a point over 280 yards off the tee. For the first time since day one and with Tree's approval, I tried for the green with a five wood. It didn't quite make it, landing in the front bunker.

I settled into the bunker studying where my ball was, where the hole was, and judging how hard I would have to carry the ball so I could get it to the hole. I then hit the shot; the ball landed where I wanted it to, about ten feet from the hole, and gently rolled forward stopping two feet short of the cup. I made the putt for a birdie.

After that I played a steady round. Two more times I found myself in sand traps, but I saved pars on both occasions. These combined with the first hole birdie boosted my confidence to the highest level it had been since I took up my try at the LPGA. The day finished with me breaking par for the first time ever, a consistent steady 70 or two under par. I made three birdies and only one bogey.

I was feeling pretty good that night about myself, and decided to indulge myself with a beer. Going through the daily mail, I was chatting with Tree as he watched some television.

"Don't get too cocky," Tree said during a commercial break. "Today was just one day."

"I won't, I promise," I said, looking at the latest issue of Golf World. Something immediately caught my attention on the cover. "Tree, take a look at this."

Golf World was a weekly golf news magazine. Covering the PGA, LPGA and Seniors tours primarily, the magazine also covered amateur golf and pro golf around the world. There were also weekly news features, columns and miscellaneous golf news in every issue.

Like almost every other publication in the world, the magazine stopped publishing for a brief time because of the shift. With a scrambled staff, the magazine only began publication again two weeks earlier.

But pro golf hadn't begun again, and the future was still uncertain at the moment. Instead of having articles on the latest golf tournaments, the magazine's first issue was about the shift and how it effected the golf world that day in July.

Much of the first issue dealt with those who were known dead. Among those were Annika Sorrenstan who had been flying at the time of the shift; others included Vijay Singh, Hal Sutton, Nancy Lopez and Paul Azinger.

The next week's issue of Golf World delved into the many problems all of professional golf would have to deal with before competitive play would begin again.

One thing I found trouble reading was the issue of what the LPGA would do in regard to men who now inhabited LPGA tour player bodies. The magazine quoted two players who remained anonymous who said they believed the tour should still only be a born woman organization.

Tree told me not to fret too much over this. He said the world was still full of small-minded idiots and this was unlikely to occur.

But what caught my attention in today's third issue was my picture, or rather Se Ri's picture on the front cover of the magazine. I wasn't the only one on the cover, there was a montage of a dozen well known pro golfers with the caption - Where are they now?

Tree read the article, then passed the magazine back to me. "Some people are wondering where you are."

"I'd thought the people at Bay Hill would have noticed already."

"Possibly," Tree said. "But you've only been playing at Bay Hill for a week and a half or so, it's still early."

Among the other players the magazine was asking where they were included David Duval, Hale Irwin, Michelle McGann, Freddie Couples and Grace Park.

"Turn to page 31," Tree said, engrossed in the television program he was watching. "You should find that article of particular interest."

I did exactly that. The article was a small sidebar about one Glenn Davis. Mr. Davis, of Sydney, Australia, was now the inhabitant of the body of Karrie Webb. The article wasn't very long, but it said that Mr. Davis recently told a newspaper reporter that she wouldn't be attempting a career as a pro golfer. The CPA now in the body of golf's #1 woman player admitted he had never played golf in his life, and said it was too late to start now. She also said that she still had a wife and family and she didn't want to be away from home.

"So Karrie is gone, and so is Annika." The magazine had stated that the whereabouts of the shifted Karrie Webb was still unknown.

"Yeah, that would make you, or rather Se Ri, the best player on tour," Tree explained. The LPGA just before the shift often was compared to the PGA in the 60's. Both had their big threes, Palmer, Player and Nicklaus, or in the LPGA the big three were Sorrenstam, Webb and Pak. All were in their early to mid-twenties, and till the shift appeared destined to dominate the tour for possibly a generation. "You might just have gotten your second lucky break."

'Lucky break?' I thought to myself, instead of yelling at Tree. Lucky to be a woman? Lucky to be a pro golfer? Lucky to be alive? Lucky to be successful?

Tears formed in my eyes, thinking of some of the people whose lives had been destroyed by the shift. Like Skipper and her sister's family. Maybe the ones who died that day in July were the real lucky ones. 

I put the magazine down and decided to say a silent prayer for the  world. God have mercy on all of us.    

Two weeks later I was at Bay Hill when I heard someone calling for me.

"Se Ri Pak?" said a boy of maybe ten or eleven years old.

"Yes," I replied. The boy then took a card out of his pocket.

"My name is Toni Stewart of the Orlando Sentinel. You know people have been wondering where you are."

"I've been home, that's all." I was waiting near the clubhouse while Tree was using the men's room before we started our round for the day.

My game by then had been showing steady improvement. I had played the course in par or better for three days. The worst score I had in the last two weeks had been a 75. While my play wasn't spectacular, it was at least consistent. It still needed lots of work, too.

"You've been looking for me, I guess."

"Yes," the boy said. "I was hoping you'd give do an interview with me." 

"Hmm...I don't really know."

"You were shifted, too?" the boy asked. "You used to be a guy?"

I didn't really know if I wanted to confess this to a stranger. Some people may not take it the right way. But why make it more difficult? "Yes."

"People are interested in knowing what you're doing," the boy said as he handed me the business card he'd taken from his pocket. It had the name Toni Stewart printed, and several telephone numbers. "Let me know if you change your mind."

I studied the card as the boy walked away. By then Tree had finished with his private business. "What was that about?" he asked.

"A reporter from the Orlando Sentinel," I said, still studying the card while deep in thought. "It appears it's no longer a secret who I am."

By mid-November the LPGA was already making great strides toward recommencing play in January of 2001. The mailing the LPGA did to it's members did get the required response. Of the one hundred, thirty-one carded members, the response broke down as follows.

Ten players did not reply. Some of these included Annika Sorrenstan and Nancy Lopez, both of whom had been reported as dead.

Another twenty-one players said they were either no longer interested in playing or incapable of playing. Some of these may or may have been players switched into male bodies or into bodies without the ability to compete on tour. The most prominent of this group were Karrie Webb and Michelle McGann.

Seventeen players were totally unshifted and still wanting to play. Among this group were Juli Inkster, Rachel Teske, Beth Daniel and Jenny Rosales.

Fifty-four players were still female, but in different bodies than their own and still wanting to compete. Some of these players were shifted among their fellow professionals. This large group included Jill McGill, Laura Davies, Dorothy Delasin, Mi Hyun Kim, Rosie Jones, Pat Hurst, and Janice Moodie.

Then there came the last twenty-nine players. All of these were men shifted into LPGA player's bodies and who wanted to compete on the tour. This group included Liselotte Neumann, Sophie Gustafson, and of course Se Ri Pak.

Of the other hundred plus players who sometimes played the tour but didn't have playing privileges, there were eighty-three who were still interested in competing. 

So the LPGA faced a few but small obstacles in making fields for their weekly tournaments. Already tournament organizers were making preparations for upcoming tournaments. Beyond all expectations, the LPGA was on schedule to begin play January 12-14 at the Grand Cypress Club in Orlando, Florida.

But there was some last issues that had to be cleared up first. Most of them dealt with the twenty-nine players that were actually shifted males. A small but vocal minority of LPGA players were already voicing objections to these men turned women playing on tour. They always quoted the LPGA bylaws that said players had to natural born women, therefore no transsexuals. Some players, while not supporting this exclusionist policy, were uncomfortable about having men competing on tour. Other players said the men shifted into women's golfers bodies should be allowed to play. Their bodies had been born female, it wasn't their fault the shift had happened.

To resolve this, as with all tour policy decisions, a vote of the players would be required. A simple majority of players was required to change or amend any of the organization's bylaws.

So the LPGA called a meeting to be held on the first Monday in December, 2000. It would take place in Jacksonville, Florida. There players could voice their opinions and vote on any of the proposed changes to tour policy. Of course, some players wouldn't be able to make it to Jacksonville. So much like a corporation with shareholders, ballots were sent out to all one hundred, thirty-one players. The player could either mail in their proxy ballots or attend the meeting. If they wished to use the ballots, the players would have to make sure the LPGA received them by December 1st, in time for the December 4th meeting.

The same night as the meeting in Jacksonville, Tree and I were talking at my Orlando home. To say I was jittery about the importance of that day's meeting would have been an understatement.

A week earlier I had mailed in my ballot. After discussing with Tree whether I should attend the meeting or not, we decided against it. The presence of shifted ones, particularly the male to females, may have further incited what was an emotional issue for many. 

"I almost feel like having another," I said, referring to my just finished bottle of beer.

"George, don't sweat it. There's nothing that can be done about it. Just be cool, everyone will be fine."

"That's easy for you to say," I replied, sounding rather snipish.

Surprisingly, Tree didn't lose his temper with me. "It is easy for me to say, I know that," he said, getting a second beer for himself while bringing me one also. "But I think I know these women from my years of caddying. Most are good people. They will be enlightened and vote what is right."

"You really think so?" I said, just staring at the beer. Ever since the shift, I never had a taste for the beverage. One beer only was the rule, also. This body I now possessed seemed to have a limited tolerance for the drink. I was already feeling light headed. 

"Yes, I do, look at the European vote from last week." The LET(Ladies European Tour) had voted down by an 81-19% vote a resolution that would have excluded players like myself from competing. The tours in Asia and Australia were expected to do the same. Tree thought the LPGA would follow. "If not, you can always go play in Europe. The money isn't as good, but the competition isn't as strong, either."

"So just sit and wait?" I said, feeling reassured by Tree's thinking.

"Yes, sit and wait." Tree decided it was time now to bring up another issue. "George, I'm planning to go back to Michigan to spend Christmas with my parents. I'll be leaving December 20th and won't be back till January 4th."

Since our partnership began the prior August, Tree and I had been almost inseparable. Other than a one-week trip back to Arizona to put his personal business in order, he had been with me the entire time.

For the most part he was my only personal contact. Yes, I had gone out since the shift, and it wasn't just to play golf. I had gone to the movies, went to some of the nearby theme parks, I even went to Daytona Beach for three days and spent time tanning myself on the beach. But rarely in all these months had I had any social interaction with anyone but Tree.

It was because I wasn't comfortable yet in my skin or new body. I wasn't yet comfortable with the person I had become and I was afraid to make a fool of myself in some minor way.

Also, I just felt guilty that I had this life. If I went and met others, I was surely going to meet people whose lives had been wrecked by the shift.

Tree, surprised by my lack of response, added, "Is there a problem with that? Because if there is-"

"No, none at all," I said after interrupting. "I was just thinking. The roads are still risky, I worry about you."

"Worry about me?" Tree said, wondering where the conversation was going. 'If this guy/girl is thinking about me for a boyfriend, she needs to change her thinking fast.'

Looking at Tree I could almost read what he was thinking. So I chose my reply carefully. "Yes, like a little sister would for her big brother."

"Little sister?" Tree said, laughing the hardest I had ever heard in the four months I had known him. "Okay, little sister, I promise to be careful. So what are you going to do while I'm away?"

"I don't know, really."

"I'd take a break from the golf if I were you," Tree said, reverting to partner mode. "George, you've worked hard, much harder than I ever thought you would. You also are playing far beyond what I could imagine. To be honest, when we started this, I didn't think it would work.

"But I'm going to make a prediction now. You will win a tournament this year, maybe two," Tree said with total honesty, "and I think you've got a bright future on this tour and I want to be a part of it."

"Thanks, Tree," I replied, blushing at his compliments. "I just hope I can live up to your expectations."

"You will, be proud of yourself," Tree said, then changed subjects. "Now, we need to talk business. Or rather, scheduling for you next year. That's assuming the LPGA lets you play next year."

"Isn't the schedule still unofficial?" I asked.

"Yes," Tree admitted. "But Se Ri usually planned her year by November of the year before, and we are behind schedule then really."

Tree continued after finishing off his beer. "Se Ri usually played twenty five LPGA events a year. Some events are automatics, either because they're majors, she was defending champion or she always played well at that event previously."

"Like the Youngstown tournament?"

"Exactly. Se Ri was defending champion in 2000," Tree explained to me. "For whatever reason she always played great in Youngstown or Toledo, where the Jamie Farr Classic is played. Jamie is a great guy, or was. You heard what happened to him?"

"Yeah, I did," I said with a laugh. Jamie Farr was the former star of the TV series, MASH, where he played Corporal Klinger who dressed in women's clothes so he could get out of the Army. After the shift, Jamie Farr found himself in the body of a twenty-nine-year-old female Air Force recruiter. Some people after hearing this wondered if there wasn't some malevolent God with a sense of humor who had planned the shift. The former MASH star would not have to crossdress for a future MASH reunion.

"So we're going to Toledo."

"Yippee. I can hardly wait," I replied, thinking how glamorous my life now was. NOT!

"Now, because of Se Ri's endorsements and sponsors, you'll have to play another four to six tournaments overseas that aren't LPGA sponsored," Tree went on.

"Have to?" I asked. Learning the ropes of the LPGA would be an ongoing experience. I had always thought a player decided where he or she did and did not play. 

"Let me explain." And Tree did exactly that. "As you probably already know, Se Ri's biggest sponsor is Samsung. They are the biggest or second biggest conglomerate in Korea, and they were her first sponsor going back to when she first turned professional. And you probably know they pay a pretty good piece of change to you now."

Tree was right about that. I had been a little shocked when I saw one of the statements from IMG stating how much Se Ri got from Samsung.

"Because of this, Se Ri always went back to Korea, usually in October. Samsung sponsors the Korean Open and several other events in which she would play."

'That means I have to go back to Korea. Oh, shit!' I thought. Ever since coming to Orlando there was one thing I had been avoiding, that was Se Ri's family. This, in spite of phone calls at least two to three times a week that I carefully avoided answering. And I felt ashamed about this; didn't Se Ri's parents at least deserve a call or explanation?

This and what Tree mentioned earlier was making my head begin to spin. "Can we talk about this some other time? I'm starting to get a headache."

"Sure, one thing. You're going to play all three Florida events? I think you should."

"Yes, I will."

"Okay, we can settle the schedule in January, then." Tree now changed mode again. "Besides me needing a break, I think you need one. I mean no golf, just relaxation. Preferably somewhere far from here."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Se Ri loved to snowboard, have you ever done it or skied?" I replied no to snowboarding but I did know how to ski. "Well, Se Ri has a board and skis in the garage, why don't you make some
reservations and go to Aspen or Sun Valley and see if your body still has the aptitude? She used to love it up there." 

"I'll take that under advisement," I said, wondering if I should do something Se Ri didn't like to do. I was getting too caught up in this person's life. "Tree, if you don't mind, I'll call it a night. See you in the morning." I got up out of my chair and went to the bedroom. Within an hour I was fast asleep.

Two days later I visited an Orlando travel agent. Before the day was over I had booked myself a ten day vacation at Sun Valley in Idaho. Taking Tree's advise, I was going to spend ten days skiing and snowboarding at the Northwestern ski resort.

The following day a letter arrived from the LPGA stating the results from the balloting and player's meeting. It was official, I was a member of the LPGA and I could begin play in January. I had up till January 5th to enter the opening event of the 2001 season.

"Where have you been?" I asked Tree as he was unloading the trunk of his car. It was the morning of January 5th, and the caddy had just arrived at my home shortly after 11:30 that warm January morning. "I've been sick with worry wondering where you were."

Two days earlier I had arrived home from Sun Valley. As predicted by Tree, the ten-day vacation skiing and snowboarding in the Idaho mountains had been a welcome tonic. I almost never thought of golf and even began to socialize with some of the other vacationers. For the first time since the shift I had gone out of my way to meet other people.

I even got together with a twenty-six-year-old ski instructor named Timothy Colbert. We met two days before my departure on one of the ski slopes and quickly became friends. After spending a whole afternoon together on the slopes, we went back to the lodge where I was staying. That evening we had a very nice dinner together.

Tim was one of the unshifted, and he knew who Se Ri Pak was. I confessed that evening that I was formerly a guy, but that didn't discourage the ski instructor. That night I shared my first ever kiss with a man.

At the time I was still unclear what my sexual orientation would be in my new life. The second day, which was my last full one in Sun Valley, found Tim busy with his work. So we only had time for a night at a local club enjoying nice music and good food. To be honest I was a bit smitten with my new friend.

The next day I left Sun Valley feeling refreshed from my vacation from golf, and giddy from my encounter with Tim. Before leaving, Tim gave me a good-bye kiss and invited me to visit Sun Valley in February. We exchanged phone numbers and addresses and promised to stay in touch. I told Tim I would probably be back.

My mood changed almost from the instant I got back to Orlando. I think it was the reality that sank in. I was less than a week from making my entry into the world of the LPGA and this made me highly strung out.

When Tree didn't return as promised on January 4th, I got more nervous. Even scared or worried. How would I ever play without him?

So Tree entered my house carrying his two suitcases and ignoring my barrage of questions as I followed him back to the bedroom. Once in the room he put his bags down and turned around. "Why are you being so bitchy?" he said, highly annoyed. "You aren't my wife or mother."

"You said you were going to be home yesterday. I didn't know what happened to you and I began to worry. You should have called me!"

"Gimme a break?" Tree replied, looking around the room and then at me. "Oh, to hell with this, I'm going to find a hotel till you're off the rag."

Tree picked up his bags again and headed back to the front door. All along I pleaded with him to stay. Just before he got to the front door I managed to block his way.

"Tree, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. Please forgive me and stay," I begged him as I started to cry.

Tree just stared at me for a minute as I kept saying how sorry I was and didn't want him to leave. Finally he spoke up. "Okay, okay, enough with the tears already. I'm not going anywhere. But don't do this ever again."

"I won't, I won't. I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. When you didn't get home last night I got sick with worry. You've been my only friend since what happened."

Tree went to my desk and retrieved a few Kleenex for me. While I wiped my tears, he took his bags back to his room. He was back a minute later.

"I'm sorry for what I did. Is there anything I can do to make up?" I asked.

"Sure, I'm starved. Anything here to eat?"

"Sure, I'll make you a sandwich." I then went to the kitchen and made one tuna salad sandwich as ordered.

That morning's episode was forgotten by evening. After having lunch together, Tree and I went to Bay Hill to see if we could get in a round of golf. We did, but barely; I played the 18th hole with the sun setting. It was my first round of golf in two weeks and looked like it; I shot a three over par 75.

After the round, we returned home to prepare a steak dinner for the two of us. While doing so Tree and I caught up on what had gone on in with our lives in the two weeks. "How are your parents?" I asked.

"Still good, but I don't know if Dad will ever get used to being Mom. Otherwise, okay. They said hello. How was your vacation?"

"Good, I had a great time on the slopes," I told Tree without mentioning my friend Tim directly. "I even made some friends."

"That's good. We all need them."

The conversation over dinner was mostly about the day's round of golf. Tree wasn't overly concerned by my play. He even thought I looked rusty but a few days of play would solve that.

After dinner was cleaned up, we retired to the living room to talk business. "Did you register for next week?" Tree said this knowing it was already too late if I hadn't.

"Yes, I did, just before I went. I reconfirmed it before you came home. I also registered for Naples and Doral."

"Good, good." Tree took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. "Now, I took the liberty of making out a schedule for you. It's based on what I said before. Where Se Ri played well, the majors, and her other commitments."

I studied the schedule Tree gave to me. It was a busy one, twenty four LPGA tournaments from January to September, then three more in Korea and Japan from October to November. After those events, there was the Tour Championship in Florida to play The tournaments in which I would play were marked in yellow, those I would not had a line through them. One of the year end events in South Korea was written in.

"You can make changes if you want, but that's my suggested schedule," Tree said. "What do you think?"

I caught one thing right off the top. "Why only one tournament in Hawaii?" There were two on the schedule, I had never been to there and thought it may be nice to see it.

"Se Ri never really played well there and usually only played one tournament there." Tree hesitated before adding something else. "It's an expensive place for us caddies, so if our player don't do well it's not a very profitable time spent."

I mulled what Tree was saying and perhaps he was right. 'But should the caddy be telling the player where he or she should play? Well, our relationship wasn't usual for a caddy-player relationship.'

"I always wanted to see Hawaii," I said.

"You can stay after the Hawaiian Ladies, and see it on your own," Tree remarked. "There are three weeks from there till your next tournament."

"Yes, I could stay," I said. 'Or even go to Idaho and see Tim and get
some skiing lessons. Hmm...'

"Okay, just Oahu, then." I continued reading down the schedule. Late March early April were busy, I would be playing three weeks in a row, but that was fine.

Everything looked fine to me. June and July were busy months with six tournaments in an eight week stretch, but August was light. One other thing caught my notice. "France and then Wilmington, Delaware? I don't mean you, but what sadist did that scheduling?" I said. The Evian Masters and then The LPGA championship were consecutive weeks. Throw in jetlag and a cross ocean plane ride and I could feel the exhaustion just reading it. "That's very, very close. Too close, in fact."

"Evian is a big purse," Tree explained. "Some of the players hire a private jet for the ride home. You could look into that."

Sure enough, the Kroger Jamie Farr Classic in Toledo, Ohio and the Giant Eagle LPGA in Youngstown were there, too. I'd be returning to the site of the shift. The schedule looked fine to me.

"Looks good to me, then."

"Se Ri used to use this travel agent in downtown Orlando. The number should be in her personal phone book."

"Yes, I already saw it. Thanks for letting me know."

"One last thing," Tree said, and I got a feeling he was breaking some kind of bad news to me. "Starting Sunday, I'm moving out of here."

"Why, you still mad at me from this morning? I apologized."

"No, no, not that. See, I always said I kept work and pleasure separate. If I continue to stay here with you, other players and caddies will--"

"Start to talk about us?" I said, interrupting.

"Exactly. I've been around the tour long enough to know that the gossip is terrible."

I was going to be sorry to see Tree go, but I knew it was inevitable. Well, it was time to finally make some non-golf friends. "I understand, Tree," I said, trying to make a brave face. "It's probably for the best, as you said."

Later that evening I was in bed thinking of what life had coming for me. And again I was questioning whether I was doing the right thing. Should I be trying to live this other woman's life?

I endeavored to rid myself of these thoughts as I tried to shut my eyes and go to sleep. Then I thought of something else. Someone I hadn't thought of in a long time.

'I wonder what happened to Mike that day?' I thought. Five minutes later, I was fast asleep.

Mike, or rather the woman he had become, was at that very same time visiting an Arizona emergency room. She had been out rock climbing that day when she took a bad step and managed to sprain her right knee. The doctor who had examined her said it was only a minor sprain, despite the former man's vocal protests.

Still, it had meant spending almost six hours in an emergency room. First the forms, then the wait, then brought into an examination room and made to wait longer. Mike had been barely able to control her temper at times with what she thought was a ridiculous waste of her time.

Especially after having a PA examine her, saying it was probably a sprain but was going to order an X-ray to make sure. This just lengthened the stay; by the time the tech arrived and took the X-ray, more boring, do nothing time had nearly driven Mike mad. Of course, someone had to read the X-ray, and then the PA came back to say it was just a sprain.

"Thank you for nothing," Mike said after the PA left the room telling her patient that someone would soon be back with a knee brace and instructions for the knee's care.

Mike was on her way home an hour later. Having driven herself to the hospital, she also drove herself home despite the brace. With instructions to put ice on the knee to reduce swelling, keep off her feet as much as possible and to keep her leg elevated, the pending LPGA golfer would have to postpone her 2001 debut for at least two weeks, or possibly till February.

'Welcome to the LPGA' was my first thought when I climbed out of the courtesy car that had taken me to the clubhouse for Grand Cypress Resort. It was near a Hyatt Hotel where most of the non-Orlando LPGA golfers were staying for the week. It was Tuesday, January 9th and the Your Life Vitamins LPGA Classic would be starting in three days.

Taking Tree's advice, I scheduled my courtesy car pickup at my home for 7 a.m. After a fifteen minute ride to the golf course, I was now making a very nervous entry in the world of Professional Golf. As a volunteer collected my golf clubs from the trunk of the car, I made my way into the country club carrying only a small gym bag.

It was a cool Florida morning, so I was dressed in a blue sweater over the polo shirt I was wearing. In addition to these I had on white slacks and a golf cap with the name Samsung prominently displayed on it. Once inside the clubhouse, I was about to ask where I was to check-in when I saw a sign saying player registration. Turning to my left I went into a room.

Inside the large room were four tables with two volunteers at each table. I went straight to the table that said L-Q. There was no one in line. "My name is Se Ri Pak," I said for what was probably the first time in my life. What I was afraid of was that the volunteer would laugh back at me and say, "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England."

But I got no such reaction. The volunteer, a middle-aged woman, just checked the list. "Yes, Ms. Pak, I have you listed as entered. May I see some ID?"

I was already prepared and handed it to the woman. After a moment of checking it she handed it back to me. Then I had to sign the entry list. It was almost like I was going to vote.

"Ms. Pak," the volunteer said, handing me a key, "welcome to the tournament. Your key is for locker room B. Go out the doors and turn left and go to the end. You should see the signs directing you where to go then. Good luck."

I said thank you, and then left the room. Following the volunteer's directions, I soon found locker room B.

As I went to enter the room, another player came out. Not really being an LPGA fan in my male life, I didn't recognize the player as I went into the room.

The locker room turned out to be empty at this time. With a key that said #3 on it, I went to the far back of the small locker room. Sure enough, locker #3 was against the back wall and had a label with S.R. Pak written on it. I opened the locker and began to empty the contents of my gym bag into the locker. The bag had three bottles of spring water, a towel, a bottle of hand lotion and my golf shoes, which I placed on the floor for the time being. Taking off my wrist watch, I put it on the top locker shelf. If I wanted to know the time I could always ask Tree.

Sitting down on a bench, I put my golf shoes on. After this was done, I put my sneakers in the locker, checked it was secure and got ready to close it.  

Except I didn't; rather, I looked in the mirror that was on the inside of the locker door. This wasn't the first and would not be the last time I had gazed at this face I now owned, but it was still so alien to me. I smiled at my reflection. That was one thing I had, a nice smile. But I had to accept that no matter what, this face would be mine the rest of my natural life. Why not take pride in it, and try to make it as attractive as I could?

So I took a moment to take my cap off, and I reached down and pulled a brush from my gym bag and began to brush my hair till I heard a loud female voice. "It's fucking 1953 all over again. Haven't any of these bitches heard of Brown vs. Board of Education?" ranted the woman golfer I didn't recognize. She wasn't talking to me, just the world in general; she seemed oblivious even to my presence. "Separate but equal? Yeah, right. Separate but unequal is what I say."

I put my brush back in the locker then closed my locker door, making sure it was locked, and then left the locker room.

It was a little past 7:30 and I knew Tree was waiting for me somewhere nearby. Engrossed in the task of finding Tree, I mistakenly turned right instead of left when leaving the locker room. At almost the exact same time another LPGA golfer came out of another locker room. "You aren't allowed in there, Mandy, go away." The golfer brushed by me despite the fact there was plenty of room in the hallway. Realizing I was headed in the wrong direction, I turned around and headed back the way I had come into the clubhouse.

Five minutes later I found Tree with my golf clubs near a snack bar. My caddy was enjoying an early morning cup of coffee. "Hey, Se Ri, how are you this morning?" he asked. I was surprised to hear him refer to me by that name. I said I was fine, then after finishing his coffee, Tree spoke up. "The practice tee is over this way." 

Following Tree, I made my way to the driving range. Walking past many of my now fellow LPGA golfers, I was getting the feeling I was being watched or looked over by some. Even I was more paranoid; I swore I got a few dirty faces from some of my competitors.

After finding an empty spot on the tee, I went into my pre-round warm-up. Starting with the sand wedge working up to driver, I started hitting golf balls on that brisk January morning. I was already up to the 5-iron when I decided to talk to Tree. "Tree, can I ask you something?" He nodded. "What's a Mandy?"

"I was wondering when you were going to ask," Tree replied frankly. I continued doing my practice routine as we talked.

"So what does it mean?"

"It's a word for players like yourself, that were born men. Man, Lady, Mandy. You get it?" I nodded to Tree. "It's not meant as a compliment, there are other names they're using, too."

"Like what?" I asked, and Tree rolled off another four derogatory terms that made Mandy sound like a compliment. "Why?"

"Because some of the women here don't want you and the others like you competing."

I was starting to get upset, but I was curious also. "How many LPGA golfers now were born men?"

"Supposedly, about thirty of you," Tree said as I moved up to a 4-iron. "Some players are upset they let you come and compete and have decided they're going to make your life miserable instead. Others are just uncomfortable with you being here, I think those golfers will change with time once they get to know you. But the others are all a bunch of assholes."

By now I was starting to cry. I felt like dropping the club and just running away. But then the golfers who didn't want me here would win. But did I have the courage to stand up?

"Se Ri, I wish I didn't have to tell you this. But don't let a small group of morons defeat you. You're better than them on the course, and as a person," Tree said to me to bolster my spirits. "And if ever one of them even touches you, I will pile drive them in the ground."

I stopped crying for a moment, thinking of the image of Tree doing what he promised. The big bear of a man with his big arms picking someone up made me want to laugh. "You'd do that for me, big brother?" I asked, showing a glimpse of a smile.

"Yes, little sister, I would," Tree smiled. "Concentrate on your golf and ignore the morons." Deciding to follow Tree's advice, I did exactly that.

About forty-five minutes later and after finishing my warm-ups on the practice tee, and then the practice green, I was ready to begin my first practice round on the LPGA. 

I was trying my best to block out of my mind what Tree had told me that morning. Dwelling on it wouldn't help my golf game and I tried to stay focused on what mattered.

Usually at LPGA events, golfers would play practice rounds with their friends. Since most of the players had either competed against one another as amateurs or in college, the players had usually established some friendships by the time they had reached the tour. Following Tree's advice, I left it up to him to find us some partners for the practice round.

We waited around the North course's first tee for about fifteen minutes when a solution arrived. "Hey, Twiggy," Tree said, greeting another caddy and then shaking his hand. The caddy appeared a tad uncomfortable being greeted by Tree. Alongside the caddy was a brown haired woman around my height or slightly taller. "How's it going?"

"Hi, Tree," said the other golfer with what sounded like a Germanic or Scandinavian accent. I now remembered the face, it was the same player who was leaving the locker room while I was entering about ninety minutes earlier. "Long time no see."

Tree shook the golfer's hand. "You didn't..."

"Yes, me and Twiggy, or I mean Tony swapped," the golfer said, referring to the caddy. Apparently they were husband and wife. The golfer then came over to me and introduced herself. "Sophie Gustafson, nice to meet you."

"Se Ri Pak," I replied. Sophie of course knew that wasn't who I really was, but shook my hand anyway. "Nice to meet you."

"So, are you guys up to a round of golf?" Sophie asked.

"Yes, we sure are," Tree replied.

Ten minutes later, after hitting a perfect fade on the first tee, I was walking down the fairway playing my first round practice or competitive on the LPGA. Even if it was just practice, I was very nervous. I never believed I'd be doing something like this in my life, and I was very much in awe of my surroundings.

I was walking down the fairway beside Sophie, while Tree and Twiggy tagged along maybe five yards behind us. After hitting our second shots to the par four hole, Sophie spoke up. "Who were you before the shift?"

"My name was George Tompkins," I replied.

"I guess you were at the LPGA event when the shift happened?" Sophie asked.

"Yes, I was. How about you?"

"No, we were in Sweden at the time." The conversation halted temporarily as we reached the first green. It was time for business.

Pacing off my putt first, I calculated my approach shot had landed twenty-five feet past and left of the hole on the par 4. After marking my ball on the green, I gave the ball to Tree who wiped the dew off it before returning it to me. I then went about studying the putt I was about to make. By my calculations the putt would only break slightly from left to right. "Just outside the left lip?" I asked Tree as I lined up the putt. Tree nodded in the affirmative. Taking my time and setting myself up, I smoothly stroked the ball. The putt just grazed the left lip before stopping about twelve inches past.

I walked up to mark my ball, being careful not to step on Sophia's line. Then I stood to the side of Tree as my playing partner putted. Sophie made the ten-footer for a birdie. Right after that I remarked my ball and without studying the line, just stroked it into the middle of the hole. Since it was a practice round, Sophie and I took a couple of practice three foot putts before leaving the green for the second tee.

After hitting our drives on the par five, Sophie and I restarted our conversation from before. "So, you were in Sweden when the shift happened?" I asked.

"Yes," Sophie replied. "Actually, Tony and I were on our honeymoon at the time. We had gotten married the week before."

"Congratulations," I replied.

"You won't believe what we were doing at the time of the shift," Sophie said, but we had finally reached our tee shots so the conversation stalled temporarily.

The second hole was a reachable in two par five, even for a modest length driver like myself. Unfortunately, I had pushed my second shot into the light rough just off the fairway. So instead of trying for the green in two, I had to lay up with a 6-iron. After watching Sophie bunker her approach shot to the par five, we restarted our conversation. "So, what we were you doing?" I asked innocently.

"We were boinking our brains out," Sophie said half laughing, half embarrassed. "I mean, Sophie and I were having sex."

"Really?" I said in shock. Well, I shouldn't have been, the couple had been on their honeymoon. What were they supposed to be doing, watching television?

As interesting as the conversation was becoming, it was time for my third shot. With seventy yards left to the pin, I decided on a three quarters sand wedge approach. The ball landed six feet from the hole and instantly stayed put.

"Nice shot," Sophie told me, and I said thank you as we continued up to the green. The amusing conversation remained halted for the time being.

Sophie's approach shot had buried in the front bunker. Blasting the ball out, the golf ball ran thirty feet past the hole. The Swede's first putt stopped right on the lip of the hole. Sophie tapped it in for par.

In the meantime, I had been readying my own putt. It was a straight, uphill putt. I stroked the six-footer right into the center of the hole for a birdie.

The short par three third only yielded pars for both Sophie and myself. So after teeing off on the fourth, we restarted our conversation from where we'd left off. "You were having sex when the shift happened?" I asked, finding the conversation both amusing and unlike anything I had ever discussed before.

"Yes, we were," Sophie said with a laugh. "You don't know how it felt to be there making love to your wife and then a moment later find yourself on the receiving end!"

"Yeah, I can only imagine," I laughed back.

"And the big ox, she went almost immediately. Just like a guy, too!" We both laughed at that one. I was realizing by now that I had just made a new friend.

The rest of the practice round I spent happily chattering away with Sophie. We talked about the shift, life since it happened, who I used to be and how life had been since, my relationship with Tree, lots of things. Even sex! Or the lack of it, in my case. I confided to Sophie about my friend Tim. She told me I should go back to Idaho soon, or more graphically, "You go, girl! Get laid!" We laughed at that one.

On the eleventh hole, while Sophie was suffering a misadventure, out of bounds, fairway bunker, in the water, and three-putt that ended with a ten on a rather ordinary par four, Tree and I got reacquainted. "Keep it going, Se Ri, you're playing just the way I told you to," Tree said.

"Thanks," I said. At the time, I was two under par for the round.

"I see you got a new friend. What have you two girls been talking about?" Tree asked. He must have been noticing the laughs Sophie and I were having.

"Oh, just girl talk. You and Twiggy seem to be getting acquainted, too."

"Yes, we have."

"You must have heard then what happened to them?" I asked.

"Yeah, I did," Tree shared with a laugh. "Better them than me."

"Why, Tree, you had nothing to worry about, you're a virgin," I said, pulling my large size caddy's leg and wondering what his reaction would be.

Tree roared his back in laughter and returned the leg pulling. "Yeah, right. Look who's talking?"

The eighteen holes of golf ended with me shooting a 69 to Sophia's 76. In spite of the three-under par score, I wasn't totally satisfied with my play. My driving had been erratic at times, I had missed five of fourteen fairways. Tree and I were going to spend an hour or two on the practice tee after the round.

But before doing so, Sophie and I parted company. We had really enjoyed the round together, and it had been a welcome tonic from the depressing events from earlier in the day. "Same time tomorrow?" I asked.

"Sure, I hope you don't mind if Liselotte joins us." Sophie was referring to her fellow Swede and friend, Liselotte Neumann. "She's getting into town right about now."

"She won't mind that I am..."

"No, Liselotte isn't like that at all," she reassured me. "We've played a dozen rounds or more together since the shift. You will like her, she's very nice. Besides, she used to be a guy, too." 

"Really?" I asked. Sophie nodded. "Sorry, I just had a bad experience this morning."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Se Ri," Sophie said. "The ones who don't like us are really just jealous. See, they are either past their prime or never been any good to start with. They hate us because we are better than them. Follow my advise. Ignore them."

"I will," I said, feeling better after hearing my friend's encouragement. "9 o'clock, then?"

"Better make it 9:30. Liselotte likes to sleep." Sophie and I agreed to meet the next morning at the South course's first tee at 9:30 a.m., and then we parted our ways. With Tree still toting my bag we headed straight to the practice tee.

The rest of Tuesday was spent working with Tree on the practice tee. We did have one brief unpleasant moment. A player passing by made a derogatory remark to me. But she also did it within earshot of Tree. My protective 'big brother' promptly gave the pro a thorough tongue lashing and threatened to do to her what he had promised earlier if the player ever insulted me again. The pro hurried off with her tail between her legs.

I was grateful to have the support of Tree. Really, I don't know how I would have coped without him. But I also felt sorry that I needed this kind of protection.

The next day, as planned, I caught up with Sophie and Liselotte. Just like the day before, I was soon bantering with a new friend while we practiced on the second of Grand Cypress' two golf courses.

Like me, Liselotte was a former man. Unlike Sophie, this Swede didn't have as dramatic an introduction to womanhood. She had been a Swedish businessman enjoying dinner with his family one moment, the next moment she found herself two miles across town in the body of one of Europe's top professional female golfers. It was never discovered what happened to the real Liselotte.

But the motivation for Liselotte to play on the LPGA was far different from my own, and more heartbreaking. While my new friend was like me in a way, she had also played golf in her earlier male life, but not in years. So she had also had to train hard to get up to speed on the sport. But there the similarity ended. Liselotte was deeply troubled. She was still very much in love with her wife Lisa back in Stockholm. Lisa had been unshifted, while their children had been shifted among one another. The problem was that Lisa was having a hard time coping with her husband turned woman. The wife had been a preacher's daughter and had been taught homosexuality was an abomination. This had strained the couple's relationship beyond words.

So Liselotte had come to Florida as much to earn money as to escape an unhappy home situation. I felt deeply sorry for my new friend. After the round was over I shared a hug with my friends as we wished each other good luck.

My second round of practice resulted in a 67, and I was feeling pretty good with myself. Tree roughly reminded me it was only a practice round.

With the tournament beginning Friday, Thursday was to be Pro-Am day. This was the day amateur golfers paid thousands of dollars to play with a professional. The money raised through this was used for the tournament's prize fund, and more importantly, to support local charities.

My tee time was 9:10 for the Pro-Am, and I showed up at the South Course's tenth tee about ten minutes ahead of time to meet my partners. They were named Craig, David, John and Gil.

They were an interesting lot. The first two were a middle-aged man and woman. Craig said he was retired, and David was a real estate lawyer.

More interesting were John and Gil. John was what appeared to be a teenage Thai girl. Later he would tell me he was on business in Bangkok at the time of the shift. John also said he had only gotten back to the United States with the greatest of difficulty. He had a hard time convincing American authorities of his real nationality.

Then there was Gil. A blonde haired woman in her early to mid-twenties I had to guess, more noticeable about her was the immense rack the former man now possessed. I mean huge, the woman could easily have been a stripper. But Gil said she had been a businessman. Since most people were shifted to others in close proximity, one had to wonder what kind of business she was conducting at the time of the shift. The same could have been said for John, also.

But Gil provided the most amusing moment of the enjoyable day. After an errant tee shot on one hole, the well-endowed woman complained, "It's so difficult to keep my balance with these."

I later told Tree I hoped the businessman had a good chiropractor. Later on I regretted this, I felt sorry for the businessperson. I had to wonder how anyone took her seriously.

With Friday being my debut as a LPGA golfer, I found it very difficult falling asleep Thursday night. I was very nervous about the upcoming day, and only slept in fits that night.  

If not for a 12:38 tee time, I would have probably been wasted by the lack of sleep. But I felt halfway decent as I went to my tee for my inaugural shot as a woman professional golfer in competition.

After shaking hands with my playing partners, Pat Hurst and Rosie Jones, I then awaited my turn. After Rosie hit her drive it was my turn. After hearing my name announced and the applause from the gallery, I teed up my ball and began my pre-shot routine.

I was a nervous wreck and scared to death as I took my stance. I kept telling myself the words Tree told me more times than I could remember. 'Long and Easy.'

My swing was long and easy, but the result wasn't. I hit a low liner of a duck hook. The left side of the tenth fairway was bordered by an access road that was out of bounds. I watched the ball land on the road and bounce it's way happily to a point probably 280-300 yards off the tee, but still out of bounds.

Waiting to hit my third shot as Pat Hurst hit her first, Tree whispered in my ear, "Se Ri, relax. You'll do fine."

My third shot was a high draw that landed 255 yards down the left center of the fairway. It was still an inauspicious start for me. Making the walk to my ball, I could feel the loneliness and pressure of competitive professional golf. Would I be able to perform up to the standards of the tour and the goals I had set?

Unlike my practice rounds, I kept to myself as I approached my ball. It wasn't that I disliked my playing partners, but part of my new work ethic. Tree had advised me that an LPGA round was serious business and I should conduct myself appropriately. Unless my playing partners were chatty, I would keep to myself. Otherwise, my only outlet would be Tree.

To be honest, this only reinforced the nervousness I was suffering that first day. After getting the yardage from Tree and consulting with him, I hit a 6-iron to approximately twenty-five feet from the hole.   

My final score for my first hole on the LPGA tour was a double-bogey six.

It was not to be a very good day for me. My driving other than the opening tee shot was good, but my putting left me. I three-putted three times on the way to an opening round 78.

Tree was a tower of encouragement for me throughout the round. He had sensed my nervousness from the moment I arrived at the country club that day. He told me this was only my first tournament and I would do better.

My play did get better as the tournament progressed, but my result was hardly exemplary. Consecutive rounds of 78-76-71 for 225 left me nine over par for the tournament and well out of the money. Because of the shift and the small sized field, tournaments were not using the traditional sixty player cut rule on the LPGA. But only the top sixty and ties got money. I finished ninety-first of the one hundred and two players entered.

Tree was still optimistic when we parted on Sunday afternoon. "Se Ri, that was just your first tournament. Once you get over your case of nerves, you'll do fine."

"Thanks, I know."

"8 a.m. Tuesday morning in Naples?" Tree asked. The next LPGA event was being played in Naples on Florida's west coast on a course named The Strand.

"Yes," I replied. Unlike Grand Cypress, I would have to stay at a hotel. I already had made my reservations at a Holiday Inn. "I get in tomorrow night."

"See you there." Tree gently patted me on the back and we then went our separate ways.

The second LPGA event of the 2001 season was the Subaru Memorial of Naples. It was to be played January 18-21 at The Club at the Strand. Whereas the Your Life Vitamins tournament was only fifty-four holes, the Subaru was the more traditional format of seventy-two holes.

It was 9:30 on Tuesday morning and I was waiting patiently for my friends Sophie Gustafson and Liselotte Neumann to appear for the practice round. Not seeing them, Tree had gone back to the clubhouse to look for them.

Five minutes later he was back. "Sophie won't make it. She left a message at the tournament office for you," Tree said, handing me the note.

It was a pretty straightforward note. Sophie said she had a bad head cold and would not be practicing that day, and apologized for any inconvenience it caused me. The apology was unnecessary, my friend needed to rest and get well.

"Any sign of Liselotte?" I asked Tree.

"Nope," Tree replied, shaking his head. "I checked the driving range and practice tee. No sign of her. We'll have to hook up with someone else."

I was about to ask Tree who we might go about finding for a practice round when a solution provided itself.

"Hey, Tree. How are you?" said LPGA tour caddy Akron. He was approaching us with another caddy and two golfers, both of whom were Asian and appeared to be in their early twenties. 

"Good, and yourself?" The two caddies shook hands. By now I had recognized the other two players as Jennifer or Jenny Rosales and Dorothy Delasin. Both were Filipino. Or rather, Dorothy had been. She had been in Youngstown when the shift happened and had swapped with her fellow professional, South Korea's Mi Hyun Kim. Jenny was one of the handful of unshifted players on tour.

"Pretty good. I've got a new bag now, I'm working for Jenny now," Akron said confidently. Jenny Rosales was a former NCAA champ from her days at USC. She was supposed to be one of the LPGA's up and coming stars.

"We don't have anybody for a practice round, do you mind if we hitch up with you?" Tree asked.

"Ladies," Akron turned to Jenny and Dorothy, "mind if Se Ri and Tree join us? They're my good friends."

"No problem," Dorothy muttered weakly. After everyone introduced themselves, we took our turn in line at the first tee.

Fifteen minutes later, all six of us were walking down the first fairway. Dorothy and Jenny were busy chattering in Tagalog while leaving me to myself. So I walked the fairways with Tree following me.

It didn't take long for me to feel like the odd woman out.

I wasn't letting it bother me till the sixth green. As I was studying my putt I could hear my two playing partners whispering in Tagalog. I got the distinct impression Dorothy and Jenny were talking about me.

After a similar experience on the seventh green, I decided to change tactics on the eighth fairway, despite urgings from Tree to leave things alone. Trying to get between the two golfers, I decided to try striking up a conversation.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" It was a sunny but mild Florida day. Actually, perfect golf weather with the temperature in the mid-sixties and not a trace of wind. I took a deep whiff of the Florida air. "Isn't this fresh air just so invigorating?"

All I got was either silence or more Tagalog spoken between the two Filipinas.

"Where are the two of you from?" I tried asking. "I've got a place in Orlando at Bay Hill." Still more silence. By this time we had gotten to our tee shots on the eighth fairway. The hole was a long dogleg right par five. I was away, so I hit first. Seeing my indirect approach fail and waiting till Jenny and Dorothy had played their second shots, I decided to be more direct.

"Why aren't you talking to me? Why are you ignoring me?" I asked, and was met by more silence. "Is it because I used to be a man? Why? Tell me."

I could tell I was making Jenny and Dorothy very uncomfortable. It would probably have been kinder to leave them be, but I persisted. "I didn't want this," I said, holding with two fingers the white polo shirt I was wearing. "If I could be a man again I would, but I can't. Why can't you treat me as the woman I am now? A professional golfer?"

We had gotten to our third shots. I was still away but I concentrated on Jenny and Dorothy. Tree and Akron were watching the spectacle, and the looks I was getting were hardly approving from the caddies.

"Look, billions were affected by the shift. None of us wanted it to happen, but it did," I said with tears welling up in my eyes. "I was changed. Dorothy, you were, too. Jenny, I'll bet you have family and friends who were. Can't we just live together in peace now?"

"I'm sorry," Jenny said, hanging her head.

"Me too," Dorothy said, then began to cry. "My father is missing; we don't know what happened to him."

"The same happened to my brother," Jenny added; by now the three of us were all crying.

I put an arm around Dorothy. "I'm sorry, too, I was too hard on both of you." I now regretted being harsh to these two young women. "We all have suffered from the shift, we need each other now more than ever."

Tree came up and informed us another group was starting to press us from the rear. Should we let them play through or hit our third shots?

"Do you want to let them play through?" I asked. Jenny and Dorothy composed themselves.

"Let's get back playing," Jenny said, and Dorothy agreed. After hitting our third shots, all landing on the green, we walked up the rest of the distance to the green as a group.

For the rest of the day we chattered away in between shots. Just small talk for the most part, but I was no longer the outsider. I felt my two fellow professionals had accepted me. That was the least I wanted.

By the thirteenth hole the subject turned to boyfriends. Dorothy and Jenny, who were respectively twenty and twenty-one years old, both had ones in California. They talked about them, and I even started talking about my friend Tim. You can only imagine the look I got from Tree when he heard this.

But on seventeen, Dorothy and Jenny reverted back to Tagalog. Not minding or paying attention, I figured there were just some things they preferred to talk about by themselves.

It was a little past 2 p.m. when we finished the round. I was about to say good-bye to my two playing partners and head off to the driving range for some more practice, when instead Dorothy spoke up. "Se Ri, how would you like to join us and go shopping?"

I was immediately stunned by the offer from Dorothy. I'd wanted to count them as my friends, but I wanted them to do the same and voluntarily.

On the other hand, I knew what 'shopping' meant. A day spent in clothing stores. In my male life my idea of shopping was either grocery or a few hours spent in a bookstore. 'Why not, it would be fun to do something other than golf.'

There was one other difficulty. Tree. I was supposed to practice after completing the round. Turning to Tree, I saw he was ready to say something. "Go, get out of here," he said with a flip of his hand. "Have a good time."

I did exactly that. After first returning to my hotel to freshen up, my two new friends and I rendezvoused at a nearby fast food place. From there we made a visit to a nearby mall where our time was spent almost entirely in women's clothing or shoe stores. I was so caught up in enjoying my time with Jenny and Dorothy, I did the unthinkable. After some encouragement from Dorothy, I bought a dress. Later on, I even got a pair of black shoes. With heels!

Then came a visit to Burdines, or more specifically, the Clinique counter. Since becoming Se Ri, I had almost never used any makeup. Mostly because I hadn't a clue how to use it. Seeing this, my friends had me sit down with one of the beauty consultants. By the time I left the store I was wearing makeup and lipstick, and had two large bags of Clinique products and my own Burdines credit card. After dinner in a nearby restaurant, Jenny and Dorothy spent the night teaching me how to use my purchases.

I definitely caught Tree by surprise when I came to the golf course the next morning with my new look.

The next day's Pro-Am was washed out by rain. Still, I stayed around the driving range hitting golf balls till the event was officially called off in the early afternoon. As Tree told me, I would have to be a bad weather golfer as well as a good weather one.

Again that evening I spent time with my friends Jenny and Dorothy. First we paid a visit to a nail salon, where for the first time since the shift I had both my hair and nails done. Then we spent the evening together at a club in Naples, where we joked, laughed and karaoked through the night. Each was trying to see who could do the worst rendition possible of Whitney Houston's 'The Greatest Love of All'. A girl's night out with my friends, and more importantly, acceptance. All was forgiven.

The next day it was back to business, there was a professional golf tournament in which to compete. With The Strand soggy from the previous day's rain, the Lift Clean and Place rule was in effect. This made for good scoring conditions. Nor did I have a case of the nerves like the week before. Maybe my friends had boosted my confidence. The end result was a two under par 70, but I was five shots out of the lead.

Then the next day weather conditions changed, especially in the afternoon. The wind came up, and with it the scores did also. Playing in the afternoon and utilizing some of my experience from practicing in the rain, I played a steady round of golf. An even par 72 was the result.

I played the weekend in 70 and 71, for an overall total of 283. A definite improvement on the week before, but only good enough for a tie for 32nd and $5117. This seemed like a small fortune compared to my days working at Pepsi-Cola.

All in all, Tree was pleased with my progress. He said bigger days were coming soon, and I believed him.

But I got a special thrill that weekend from my friend Sophie Gustafson. Having recovered from her head cold, she opened the tournament with a 69. Then she played Friday morning before the wind came up. Making four birdies on the front nine, and five on the back, she shot an eight under par 64 to take a three shot lead.

Almost immediately, the talk in the media turned to what a Sophie Gustafson win would mean. They said it would be the first man to ever win an LPGA event. This, in spite of my friend's insistence that she wasn't a man. Yes, she was in the past but not anymore, she told the press at a Friday news conference.

A third round 68 left Sophie with a four shot lead going into Sunday. With it came even more attention over her status as a "Mandy" and there were many male to female shifted people who weren't golf fans who were pulling for her, because many of us felt we were not accepted as real women. The hope was that a win would lead to our acceptance by born women instead of being treated like second-class women.

Looking back now, I think the whole issue was mostly media created. In the months after the shift the media did regular reports of men who were now women who did things only women had done before. I feel the press was making the class distinction of there being two different types of women, not the public in general. Like the woman who had triplets after having invitro fertilization done after the shift. She had made the choice to have a baby and so on. Why should this have been news, we were just doing what we were biologically able to do? 

And for that matter, why had the media centered on males who became females, and not even considered all the females who had become men and were now actively living whatever roles they'd been forced into with hardly any difficulties or fanfare? It must have been the seemingly significant difference of men now living as women.

So after finishing my Sunday round and parting with Tree, I went back out on the course as a spectator. By this time Sophie was making the turn for the back nine and was still holding a four shot lead. I wanted to cheer on my friend.

Sophie closed with a final round 69 for a score of 270 and a three shot victory. As she exited the green to the applause of thousands of spectators, I was there watching by the scoring tent. I was so happy for her, and for myself also. We had proved we could play on the tour.

"Congrats, Sophie," I told my friend as we hugged one another outside the scoring tent. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Se Ri, you don't know how much that means to me. I've got to go inside."

"Going to Doral?" I asked. The Office Depot Classic was to be played the next week at the Doral Resort in Miami, Florida.

"No, we're taking the week off. See you in Hawaii."

The most important event of the day happened after the tournament while I was driving back to Orlando. It was Sophie's press conference. She didn't talk about her round or the win, or how much the tournament mattered to her. Instead, she talked about how women around the world needed to stand up for our rights in this difficult time. That only through unity could we persevere through a crisis that had no comparison in human history. "But to do so, first women must respect themselves. Not think of ourselves by race, ethnicity, religion or sexual orientation, or separate ourselves by these standards, but unite and stand as one. If we didn't respect ourselves, how would others respect us?" she asked, saying only by accepting our many differences we would all get stronger.

Sophie also talked of the proud history of the LPGA and its many pioneers. She felt these pioneers wouldn't want the tour to be divided, but instead for us to respect one another.

This proved to be a bridge or a peace offering between the warring camps on tour. Others began to speak up, having changed their mind about the "Mandies" on the LPGA circuit, saying that all of us were women, not just those born one. The resentments began to go away, and with only a few exceptions, there were no more hard feelings. Within three months the separate locker rooms were scrapped. We were here to stay.

It was Tuesday afternoon at the Doral Country Club and I had just finished a practice round on the Doral's famed Red course. I had spent the day playing with my friends Dorothy Delasin, Jenny Rosales, and Liselotte Neumann. Having just scored a par four on the famous 18th, I began to walk to the practice tee.  

"Se Ri," Tree said to catch me, having stopped. "Can we talk for a sec?"

"Sure." I made my way back to my caddy.

"I'm still sick with this cold. Can we call it a day?" 

"No problem," I told him. I really needed Tree 100% healthy. To be honest I didn't know if I could play without him. He is that valuable to my game. Part coach, part cheerleader, part brother, part demanding taskmaster, he did more than carry my bag and give me yardages. We were really a team, without each other we were nothing. "I've had enough of golf for today. See you at the Clubhouse tomorrow at 7:30."

So I went to the clubhouse. Jenny and Dorothy had invited me to join them in going out later that afternoon. They had been talking about visiting South Beach most of the round. Once in the locker room I took my golf shoes off and was about to leave for my hotel room when I heard a voice. "Hey, Sis. What's happening?"

'Sis?' I turned around to see a very attractive Asian woman in her early twenties. She was dressed in a light pink polo shirt and white shorts with a black ball cap on her head. It took me a moment, but I recognized the golfer as South Korea's Grace Park. I remembered seeing her that fateful day in Youngstown, Ohio the previous July.

"Hello," I said as I was closing up my locker.

"You know they call us the Seoul Sisters," Grace said cheerfully as she began to open her own locker.

"Really." I was tired from a day of golf and wasn't really in the mood to talk at the time.

"Yes, really," Grace said. "So you used to be a guy, too?"

"Yes," I said, and began to excuse myself. "I really have to get going."

"My name was Mike, how about you?"

'Mike, it couldn't be? Mike's a common name, right,' was my first thought. But there was something about Grace that sounded too familiar. So I decided to find out. "Mine was George. George Tompkins."

"George Tompkins?" Grace said, putting her hand over her mouth in shocked surprise. "It's me, Mike Stanton. I can't believe it, I found you."

Immediately we hugged one another. It was a deep or even passionate hug. I couldn't believe it, but I had found Mike.

"This is so unreal," Mike or rather Grace continued, letting me loose from her hug. "I mean, we find each other here of all places, and we're both women and golfers."

"And Korean?" I added.

"Yes, that too," Grace replied, still in shock. It always struck me as odd that she was dressed in pink that day. To this date I have never felt totally comfortable in that color. It embodies femininity, something I still grapple with occasionally almost two years later.

But then, Grace was much prettier than myself. There was no denying it, so why not enhance your appearance?

"Where have you been?" Grace began to ask. "You know, why don't we go out tonight together? We've got a lot of catching up to do."

I then remembered my plans for going out with Dorothy and Jenny. Maybe I could ask them for a rain check. After all, I had just met Mike for the first time in so long. We really did have a lot to catch up on. "Sure, what time?" I said. "I'm staying at the resort here."

"Me, too," Grace said, thinking. "Let's meet at 6. How's that?"

"Sounds good to me."

"I'd better get going then," Grace said, pointing to her knee. "I really need to get in at least nine holes today. My knee is still hurting from my rock climbing accident."

'Rock climbing? When the heck did Mike ever learn rock climbing?' I thought. It didn't matter. "I'm going to rest and freshen up before tonight."

"You do that, see ya later, Gator."

I said good-bye and left the locker room. But I had one more task to do before going back to the hotel. I went over to the other locker room. The separate locker rooms were still in force then, so I knocked on the door hoping someone would answer. A moment later, Pat Hurst walked out. "Hi, Se Ri."

"Hello, Pat, is Jenny Rosales or Dorothy Delasin in there?"

"Dorothy is."

"Could you ask her to come out?"

"Go in yourself," Pat said. "She's at the first row of lockers around to the right." Accepting Pat's invitation, I walked right in. 

As promised, Dorothy was there. She was just getting ready to leave herself.

"Se Ri."

"Dorothy, is it all right if I take a rain check for tonight? I met a friend who asked me out."

"No, not at all. Have a good time."

"Thanks, please tell Jenny for me."

Dorothy said she would. I then left the locker room and made my way back to the Doral Resort Hotel and Club.

I had been waiting in the hotel lobby almost a half-hour when Grace finally arrived. "Sorry I'm so late," Grace said, kissing me on the cheek. She was dressed very smartly in a flowered blouse and skirt. In comparison I looked like I fell off a truck in my t-shirt and jeans. "It took longer for my nine holes than I thought. Are we all set?"

I replied I was, to which Grace said, "Good, our ride should be waiting out front."

Walking alongside Grace, we went out the hotel doors. A stretch limousine was there waiting.

"Is that for us?"

"Yes, why not?" Grace said. "It was so wonderful seeing you again. I wanted to make tonight a special night."

The limousine's driver opened the back passenger door for us. I stepped into the vehicle, with Grace following.

Grace and I caught up on each other's lives since the shift happened during our ride to Miami Beach. So much had happened, and there was a great deal to share.

"I am so sorry to hear about Lisa and Mike Jr." I was almost ready to cry, hearing about what happened to Mike's wife and son. "It must have been quite a shock." 

"It was," Grace said, trying to remain strong. "But maybe it was for the best. Sometimes I think the ones who died that day were the lucky ones. I mean, this world is so messed up now."

We sat there quietly for a few minutes till Grace spoke up again. "You don't know what happened to the real Se Ri?"

"No, I don't," I replied. It was a rare day I didn't think of her. "How about Grace?"

"She shifted into her caddy," Grace replied. "We went to Arizona together and lived together till about six weeks ago when I kicked him out."

"Kicked him out?"   

"Yes, he was trying to run my life and what I did with what had been her body," Grace said, emphasizing the 'her'. "Nothing I ever did was right to him, and I grew tired of his nagging and dumped him."

"Couldn't he sue you?" I asked. Lawsuits over whose life or possessions belonged to who were common after the shift. "It was his life, after all."

"Yes, he could, but I don't care and told him so," Grace replied, annoyed slightly by my question. "I'll give all the money to lawyers or charity."

We had finally arrived in Miami Beach, or rather South Beach. After parking the limo, the driver came around and opened the door for us.

It was a busy night on South Beach. The sidewalks were full of people. I waited while Grace settled with the limo driver. After this was done she came back over. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved," I admitted. I had only some crackers for lunch and an apple during the afternoon.

"Me, too," Grace said, and asked if I had any food preference. I said it didn't matter. "Then let's just find somewhere nice to eat."

Grace and I started walking. Not knowing where to go I just followed her lead. The sidewalks were crowded or even overflowing with people. South Beach was a popular place usually with the young. They came here to party and have a good time. But now, since the shift, you would see many different types of people, old, young, even children. The world had changed, but there were still those who wanted a good time.

I then noticed something. Grace was holding my hand. Not knowing why I asked. "Just didn't want you to get lost," was her reply.

It was 7:30 and most restaurants were packed with customers. Grace said she really preferred to have Italian food if I didn't mind, and I said that was fine with me. Finally we found an Italian restaurant that was only a block from the ocean. However, there was a long line of waiting to be seated. I waited outside while Grace went inside to get on the waiting list. She was back out in less than five minutes. "They said we have at least a forty-five minute wait," she said, pointing to a beeper like object she was holding. The restaurant would buzz us when it was our time.

"Why don't we go over to the beach and take a walk."

We did exactly that. Making the one block walk, we were soon strolling along the beach making small talk with the roar of the ocean in the background and the smell of fresh ocean air filling our nostrils. And Grace continued to hold my hand the whole time.

It was about forty minutes later that we were finally seated in the restaurant. By this time I was absolutely famished. When a waitress finally came I ordered a veal dish with linguine. Grace decided on the same.  

As we began to enjoy the salad and bread that came before the entrees, the conversation turned to golf. "You decided to play golf also," Grace said.

"Yes, I didn't think there was much of a future left at Pepsi-Cola for me."

"You've got to do what you've got to do," Grace said, sounding somewhat flippant.

"I don't know," I said, confessing some of the self-doubts I had. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm really doing the right thing."

"Why?"

"It's...I have a hard time putting it in words, but is it right for me to be living someone else's life? Their home, their career, their dreams?"

"You had to survive," Grace said, sounding confident or comfortable. "We had to do the best we could. Don't you think the person who became you did the same?"

Earlier I had told Grace about my encounter with the person who was now me. I had always wondered about the little girl now inhabiting my body. 'How is she doing now?' I wondered. "You're probably right."

"I am right. We all had to adjust. Some of us more than others."

"Yes, we were lucky in a way," I admitted.

"Yes, we were," Grace said, looking down at her fingernails. "We had to play the hand we were dealt." Salad had arrived by now and I dug right in.

"So, you're enjoying being a woman?" I asked after a few fork fulls.

"I don't know," Grace answered, looking at me. "But it does have it's moments."

"I was just thinking of the clothes you were wearing today. I don't know if I could do that."

"You mean the pink?" Grace replied, looking amused. "I thought it made me look very attractive. Didn't you? I am a woman now, and if you know what I mean, I can't hide it."

"True."

"Like, if I could shave my head or something to make me look like a man I'd do it," Grace said, "but it won't, so why not utilize what I've been given."

"Yes, I suppose so," I said, having finished off the salad. There were rolls on the table, but I didn't want to spoil my appetite for dinner. "You didn't get shortchanged in the way of looks."

"Thank you," Grace said with a smile. "You aren't bad yourself."

"I thought I was one of those ugly dykes you mentioned that day."

"Oh no, no," she said, sounding apologetic. "You are very attractive, so don't knock yourself." Grace hesitated for a minute. The whole conversation was very weird, but then what was normal anymore since the shift? "But that leaves the unanswered question, are you a dyke?"

'Huh?' I hadn't really given the subject much thought. There had been too many other issues since the shift for me to deal with.

"Well, let's put it this way," Grace began to say. "Do you have a
boyfriend?"

"Umm...not really. I met this guy Tim up at Sun Valley when I went skiing over the holidays." Looking back now, I think Grace was disappointed by this answer, but she kept it pretty well concealed.

"But you didn't--"

"No, we did not," I interrupted. Dinner had finally arrived. Conversation began again as soon as the waitress was gone.

"Other than Tim, who's in Idaho, you don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend."

"No, I don't," I said, looking up from dinner. "How about you, are you..."

"Gay?" Grace asked, and I nodded because I had food in my mouth. "Certainly. I wasn't attracted to guys before the shift, why should I be now?"

"Makes sense."

"And of course I don't ever want to risk getting pregnant, so I won't ever do it with a guy," Grace remarked. "Frankly, just thinking of being with one makes me ill, and I don't want to ruin this enjoyable dinner or evening."

The conversation stopped for a minute or two while we ate our food. Then Grace began again. "I guess you're still thinking about this?"

"Yes, kind of."

"So do you enjoy being a woman?" Grace decided to ask me.

"As you say, it has it's moments. It's still a getting used to and learning process."

"Yes, I can understand that," Grace replied. "The being Asian part isn't bothersome, even though I thought it might in the beginning. I don't even think of it, to be honest. The only reminder is when I look in a mirror."

"Me, too."

"So your tide isn't in right now, is it?"

"Tide?" I asked, being clueless to what Grace meant.

"The curse, Aunt Flo." Grace saw I was clueless as to what she was talking about. "I mean, are you having your period?"

"Uhhh...not at the moment," I said. By my calculations it was due sometime over the weekend and I was already dreading it.

"Mine is due in about a week," she said. "It's really disgusting to have to experience it, but I guess I will have to just bear it."

"Could we please change topics?" I asked. "I'm eating right now."

Grace laughed. "Yes, certainly. How is your golf game coming along? I saw your results last week, but I didn't know it was you."

"Okay, I guess, it still needs work. How about you?"

"I shot 66 yesterday on the red course, but I think the course was set up too easy," she remarked.

"Wow, a 66," I said. "I played the Red in 69 today."

"You'll do better." Grace smiled.

"How long after the shift did you start playing?" I asked.

"Not long after we got to Arizona. Figured I needed a way to pay the bills and to eat."

"Me and Tree started practicing after getting to Orlando," I told her. She already knew that Tree was part mentor/part caddy/part coach to me. "He kept me on the range for five weeks before I even played eighteen holes."

"I went out right away," Grace said or bragged. "It felt so natural for me. I broke 70 in the first ten days I was playing."

"It was hard work for me, and I played in high school, but that was a long time ago."

"Isn't it funny," she began to remark. "A year ago we were a couple of working stiffs delivering soda pop, and now we're playing professional golf."

I laughed. "Yes, I've got to admit it is funny."

"And the money," Grace said, apparently happy with her new life in some ways. "We can make more in a weekend than in a whole year at Pepsi-Cola and what? For like forty to fifty hours work."

We had finished eating dinner and Grace motioned for the waitress. I had completed my meal, eating every last bit of it. My friend had more like picked through her own meal, it was probably only half finished. "You aren't interested in dessert?" she asked, and I said no. She then asked for the waitress to bring the check.  

"The off the course money isn't bad, either," Grace started up again. "But I guess you know that."

"Yes, I saw the financial statements from IMG. I could never imagine a ladies golfer made that much, either."

"Me either," Grace said, then started cataloging some of her sponsors and endorsements; I mentioned my own in reply. "But I bet you don't have Estee Lauder."

"No, I don't."

"Too bad," Grace said as the waitress returned. Taking out a credit card from her purse, my friend gave it to the waitress. "You'd make a good spokeswoman."

"I wouldn't even know what to do with it." I told Grace about my relative inexperience before my friends Jenny and Dorothy came to the rescue.

"You really don't need to use much," Grace mentioned. The waitress had returned by now. My friend signed the credit card. "Are you all set to go?" We then got up from the table and left the restaurant.

By now it was past 9 p.m. and to be honest I was beginning to feel tired. I also knew I had an early morning tee time in the Pro-Am and that meant an early wake up call. As interesting and exciting the evening with Grace formerly Mike was, I really needed to get back to the hotel. "Grace, I've had a great evening but I think it's time for me to go back to Miami."

"Why, the evening is still young?" Grace sounded disappointed.

"I have a morning tee time tomorrow," I tried to explain. "It's not that I haven't enjoyed our time tonight."

"George, I mean Se Ri, please don't go back yet. I've been really having a great time, and it's so nice to see someone I knew. Please? It's just tonight. I'll make sure you don't regret it."

"Okay, why not," I gave in. It was only one night after all, and tomorrow was just the Pro-Am. I could manage on five hours sleep. "So what do we do or where do we go now?"

"I know the perfect place." Grace took me by the hand again. I felt uncomfortable with this, but she was insisting. So I complied and we started walking. Five to ten minutes later we were outside a club with a big cat for a logo on the outside. The building proclaimed itself the Pussycat Club.

Walking straight to the door, we were greeted by someone. "Evening, ladies," said a tall, androgynous looking person. I wasn't sure if the person was male or female. "May I see some form of identification."

Grace and I both took out our driver's licenses. This had been the first time I had been proofed since getting discharged from the Army in 1992. After scrupulously checking the licenses, the doorman or bouncer opened the door for us and we were allowed in.

The Pussycat Club was a very dark, smoke-filled establishment with blaring music playing in the background. It took me a moment for both my eyes and lungs to adjust to the club's atmosphere.

Once accustomed to the lighting I could see the building consisted of a bar on one side and tables across from and immediately behind it. There was a stage all the way in the back of the room that seemed to be used for entertainers.

In the middle of the table area was a place set aside for dancing. There about a half dozen patrons of the busy club were enjoying dancing to the music.

As we came further into the club something immediately struck me, but Grace beat me to it. "It's a lesbian club," she said, having to almost yell for me to hear her. On closer examination I had discovered all the customers were women. "I found it last night while visiting here."

Establishments like the Pussycat Club had been thriving since the shift. People now in bodies of the opposite sex about sixty to seventy percent of the time did not change the sex to which they were attracted. At least this was according to surveys. Thrust into a new sex and still favoring those they had always been attracted too, there had been a large increase in people identifying as homosexual.

And it was no longer taboo for same sex couples or homosexuals to show their feelings. Grace and I had hardly been the only women seen holding hands on South Beach. It had become acceptable by many, if not a majority of people.

This was of course my first ever visit to such a place in my life. And I was beginning to wonder about Grace's motivations in bringing me here.

"Why did you bring me here," I asked again, trying to be heard above the noise. "Are you taking me on a date?"

"Only if you want to," Grace said with a smile. "I just wanted to show you a good time. Let's grab a table and get something to drink and enjoy the night."

Taking seats at a nearby table, a waitress soon came up and asked us for our order. Having had a glass of wine with dinner, I asked for a diet Coke. Grace ordered the same.

The noise in the club just about made conversation impossible, but Grace and I managed some small talk while watching some of the women on the dance floor. I was also slightly surprised by Grace not asking me to dance. She had brought me, after all.

"Why don't you go and ask someone to dance?" Grace said.

"Me, ask a woman to dance?"

"Yeah, why not?"

I wasn't to get the opportunity. Rather, an average looking woman with curly blonde hair and appearing to be in her thirties approached the table. "Are you two related?" she asked.

"Sort of," Grace replied with a smile.

"Would you like to join me on the floor?" The woman asked me, not Grace. I hesitated, then looked at Grace.

"Get out there!" Grace said, giving me a gentle push. I got up and followed the blonde haired woman to the dance floor.

The dancing being done in the club was hardly waltzing in fashion. Rather more like bump and grind.

"My name is Donna, what's yours?" asked my dance partner.

"Se Ri," I replied.

"You Chinese?"

"No, Korean."

"Oh. I've never seen you here before."

"I have a home in Orlando." Admittedly, I was enjoying the time on the dance floor. I had so rarely interacted with people other than other golfers, it was a welcome release. 

"My home is about two miles from here," Donna said as we bumped and grinded. "You dance pretty good."

"Thanks." I then noticed Grace was no longer at our table. Could she have left me here? I doubted it, I just wondered where she had gone.

"Can I ask you something?" Donna asked, and I nodded. "Were you shifted?"

"Yes." I decided honesty was the best policy. "I used to be a man. Why?"

"Oh, no problem, I was just curious. I swapped with my older sister, but I've always been a female," she said. "I had a girlfriend named Cathy, but she swapped with a guy. Our relationship ended."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it was probably for the best," Donna said. Then the music stopped. With no sign of Grace, Donna joined me at the table.

"I needed a break from the music, anyway," Donna said as she ordered a drink from a waitress. "What do you do? I'm a nurse at Miami Jackson."

"I play professional golf," I admitted.

"Wow, that must be exciting. You must go to lots of great places then."

I then saw Grace come back into the club. Seeing me with Donna, she smiled at me. "If Toledo and Youngstown are exciting," I replied.

Donna laughed. "They can't be all that bad."

The music had begun again, and Donna invited me back to the dance floor. This time Grace was also on the dance floor, with a redheaded woman in her twenties.

Almost thirty minutes later and after a few more dances, Donna and I were off the dance floor. "I've got to work tomorrow. You wouldn't like to come over to my place?"

I had a very good idea what Donna was inviting me to come over for. But I had an easily prepared excuse. "I've got an early morning tee time," I said. "I'd really like to, otherwise."

Donna took a pen out of her purse and wrote a number on a cocktail napkin. "If you get time while here, call me. I'd really like to see you again." She then bent across the table and kissed me on the lips, said good-bye and left the club.

Grace came over to the table shortly after. "So, what happened?"

"She had to go to work tomorrow." I left out the invitation part. It was almost 11 p.m. by then. "Can we get going? I'd like to get back to the hotel."

"The night's still young. Why don't you enjoy it?" But I was persistent. So Grace caved in. "I'll call the limo company, and have them pick us back up."

Grace left the table before I got the chance to mention why we couldn't just get a cab, it would be faster. A few minutes later she was back. "They'll be here in thirty minutes," Grace explained. "You wouldn't be interested in dancing with me?"

I thought for a few moments. "Sure." We then got up on the dance floor and started bumping and grinding. Or rather, Grace bumping. She seemed to really enjoy aggressively bumping her behind against mine.

Maybe an hour or more later we were back to the Doral resort. It was past midnight and I was exhausted. I also knew I would have to be getting up by 6:30 the next morning.

Grace and I got on the elevator together. My room was 309 and hers was 220. When the elevator got to the second floor Grace got off, but she didn't get four steps before she tripped. "Ahhhhh..." Grace moaned, holding her right knee. Seeing my friend on the floor I got off the elevator and came to her aid. I remembered her mentioning an injured knee.

"Are you all right?" I asked, bending down to help my injured friend.

"Can you help me to the room?" I gave Grace my hand and pulled her to her feet. Gingerly we made it down the hallway to room 220. Once I got my friend to the room I helped her to the bed.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Can you get me a bucket of ice?" Grace asked. "It will help with the swelling."

"Sure." Going to the bathroom I found the room's ice bucket. Taking a towel out of the bathroom and giving it to Grace, I then left the room and walked back in the direction of the elevators. Both an ice and soda machine were nearby. I was back in maybe two minutes, but I was surprised not to find Grace in bed. But I did see the bathroom door was closed. I decided to knock on the door.

"Grace, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'll be right out," Grace said from inside. Hearing that my friend was all right I decided to prepare the towel I had gotten earlier. I was going to wrap ice in it so Grace could use it for her knee.

Very soon I heard the bathroom door open. Turning to see if I could help my friend, I instead got a very big surprise.

Grace didn't have a single piece of clothing on. She was stark naked. I was also totally speechless. What had gotten into my friend's head? "How do you like?" she asked, coming out of the bathroom and walking toward me. While her knee was bandaged she wasn't limping. So her scene in the hallway had obviously been a ruse. "Don't you find me attractive?"

'Attractive?' I really thought Grace or the former Mike was losing it. Yes, the woman was attractive, but this was also the guy I used to spend nights with, drinking beers at a sports bar. Feeling totally uncomfortable with what was going on, I began to back my way toward the hotel door.

Grace was coming closer. I could smell her scent. Funny, I didn't remember her wearing perfume earlier that evening. Had she just put some on for me?

My knees were getting weak. What was I to do? My hand was on the door knob. 'Just open the door and get the hell out of here?' Instead, I wavered. 

If Grace was trying to seduce me, she was doing one hell of a job. I kept looking at those breasts of hers. Her whole body was a light brown as was mine, her small but perky breasts with wide brown aureolas each with tiny pencil tip nipples. As much as I wanted to think this was my former drinking buddy Mike, another part of me wanted to do this woman.

Grace didn't give me any more time to think. Getting right up to me, she took my head in both hands, drew me in and began to kiss me. And I began to kiss her back. With neither of us paying attention, I then dropped the bucket of ice.

Our tongues twirled as we savored the tastes from the soft probing of each other's mouth, our lips dancing in perfect rhythm to one another. And I didn't want it to stop. Working my hands downward, I soon had her buttocks firmly in them. Taking her cheeks I pressed her harder toward me till our breasts were hitting one another. In spite of my still being dressed, the feeling this caused was exhilarating.

But Grace wasn't wasting much time either. As we continued to kiss, she let go of my head, and worked her hands down to my waist. Unbuttoning the jeans I was wearing, she began to lower them and my panty. Sure enough, as she lowered them, Grace's hand made its way into my panty. Never having been touched there before I slowly began to moan.

My back arched and I immediately felt uncomfortable because of the hard hotel room door behind me. Grace was doing a slow rub of my thigh area while at the same time ending the meeting of our lips. But instead she began to kiss my neck, over and over again while still rubbing between my thighs.

"You really need to get undressed," Grace said, speaking for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

"I think we need to be somewhere more comfortable, too." Grace smiled hearing my low moan as a reply. Stepping away from the door, my friend made sure the door was locked and bolted as I removed my t-shirt and stepped out of my jeans and panty. But I was still wearing my bra and before I got a chance to take this off too, Grace came behind me and whispered, "I'll take care of that, too." Which she did, unclasping the bra, I then let it slide off my arms. Not wasting any time, Grace took both my breasts in from behind and began to rub them as our bodies tightly pressed against one another did the same. For the longest time it seemed our bodies moved in perfect rhythmic motion, and our moaning did the same. I could feel warmth and sensation at my back while Grace's rubbing of my breasts made me shiver from head to toe, and I just didn't want to stop.

And we didn't. I soon felt things I had never felt before, mostly emanating from a part that I had never had less than six months ago. The feeling kept getting stronger and stronger and with it my breathing became deeper till finally like a bolt of electricity hitting me, I arched my back again and sighed. My first female orgasm.

Grace continued, and the feelings started again and then my friend shuddered herself. She had climaxed also, but she just kept on going as we continued our bodies in motion in the middle of the dimly lit hotel room. All thought of this being my former friend and drinking partner washed away as my mind instead filled with lust for this incredibly beautiful female.

Then we began to slow down. To be honest, I needed a bit of a breather. Then Grace lifted her hand up to my face and put the tip of her finger first under my nose, where I smelled a musky odor. She had apparently fingered herself to entice me to do oral sex. At this point I was beyond holding back or stopping. I was in her complete control.

Placing her finger in my mouth, Grace asked, "Do you like the taste?"

"Yes," I answered, after having licked her finger.

"Good." And we instantly went to the hotel bed and I immediately laid down on my back. Surprising me again, Grace immediately got on top of me, straddling me and began riding me.  

"I always preferred being on top." She giggled as she began to swivel as she rode me and fondled my breasts. "After I'm through with you, you won't ever want to have sex with a man."

Grace was probably right at the time. I was surrendering myself to her and I was lusting for her to continue pleasuring me. And she was delighting in every moment of boinking my brains out.

After a few minutes of riding me, Grace swung to the side of me. But instead of being face to face when I was male with another woman, my lover was the reverse. We were in what is termed the 69 position.

Dangling her crotch almost in my face, Grace said, "I hope you taste as good you look. Enjoy." Feeling her begin to pry my thighs apart and begin licking me, I decided it was time to do the same. Looking at her silk like black pubic hair, I unleashed my tongue and began to lick.

To be continued in Part Three