The case for playboy bunnies and church ladies

What happens when opposing ideas meet in one person

The fridge was empty except for the yellow carton of apple juice which was my permanent substitute for water, and Asti-Spumante wine – I use the term wine very loosely when describing that drink. As far as beverages go it was as bad as it sounds, but the vital characteristics were the cheap price tag and that it contained alcohol. I reached for the bottle as I struggled to get the black line sewn into my almost see-through tights go straight up the back of my leg instead of veering sideways. The tail I needed to attach to the black bodysuit lay on the Ikea bookshelf across the room. It had taken my roommate and I all day to put that shelf together the month before - on the day I arrived to start college.

The day the cultures that imprinted on my psyche began to clash — without me knowing.

I drank more wine.

Sliding my feet into my black stilettos and attaching the ears I realized I would need to drink more, quite a bit more, and probably not wine, in order to go to work.

Work. Dressed in …