When the Dress Code Changed Everything

Hector adjusted the lilac phone in front of the bedroom mirror, turned on the flash, and sent the picture. That was his irrefutable proof.

Only seconds earlier, the screen had been flooded with increasingly irritated messages from his supervisor, demanding that he return to work immediately and asking why his medical leave had been extended for so long.

After sending the photo, Hector took a deep breath and finally typed out the whole explanation.

“Look, boss, to be completely honest, I never told the company that I had traveled to undergo a cosmetic procedure. The original plan was just a traditional hair transplant, so I decided to keep it private. The problem is that, when I arrived at the clinic, one of the doctors offered me an experimental genetic treatment. They promised perfect hair restoration without surgery, scars, or downtime. What they conveniently forgot to mention were the side effects.

“So here I am, sending you a picture to prove that the treatment actually works. My hair came back, and it’s already growing at an incredible rate. The little complication, as you can see, is that some other things grew quite a lot too...

“And, to make matters worse, one thing disappeared completely.”

Hector ran his fingers through his short, glossy black hair, admiring the modern cut that now framed his face. The treatment had genuinely eliminated his baldness. There was no denying that part.

Unfortunately, science had apparently decided to collect its payment in a rather unconventional way.

The once-unremarkable systems analyst had somehow ended up with a completely different body, including a strikingly feminine silhouette and curves that made his old clothes practically useless.

He looked down at himself again.

The cropped blue top and matching shorts had been the only remotely suitable clothes he could find at the clinic. Now, standing in front of the mirror, Hector was beginning to realize just how dramatically his appearance had changed.

Then his phone buzzed.

Two minutes.

That was all it had taken for his supervisor to answer.

Hector opened the message, expecting questions, disbelief, perhaps even a recommendation that he find another doctor.

Instead, there was only one short sentence:

“If the doctors can't fix your problem by Monday, just remember the company's dress code.”

He suddenly remembered how his boss used to talk about the dress code.

He had even heard him say, more than once, that a beautiful woman should take advantage of the fact that she was beautiful.

At the time, Hector had never thought much about it.

Now he looked at his reflection again.

The short black hair.

The delicate face.

The fitted clothes.

The completely transformed silhouette.

He slowly looked back at the message.

“Remember the dress code,” his boss had said.

Hector couldn't help chuckling.

“Oh, I remember it.”

Suddenly, another memory surfaced.

A few months earlier, after one of the company's secretaries had arrived wearing the exact combination his boss liked, the man had looked her over and jokingly called her a “gorgeous girl” before reminding her that the outfit was exactly what the company expected for important occasions.

Hector had thought it was ridiculous.

Now he understood the pattern.

The boss didn't really care about the dress code.

He cared about seeing the women he considered attractive wearing the dress code.

And if that was the case...

Hector slowly raised his eyes toward the mirror.

For the first time since waking up in this impossible body, he began to appreciate the absurdity of his situation.

Apparently, his boss had just given him a very unusual compliment.

Not in words.

But in the most unmistakable way possible.

He had essentially looked at the picture of Hector and thought:

If you're going to show up looking that good, you might as well dress like the other pretty girls.

Hector laughed under his breath.

“Well, boss...”

He glanced at the closet.

“Looks like I'm going to need a mini skirt.”

And judging by the expression on his reflection, Hector wasn't nearly as embarrassed by that thought as he probably should have been.

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