Sydney looked across the table at ... what was this guy's name again? Ted? She remembered that he was essentially the cafe's janitor, and not really a great one, as he slacked off a lot. She recalled the few times that she had caught him getting stoned out back where she liked to be alone and write her poetry. She didn't really make a fuss about it, though. After all, she smoked cigarettes.
Speaking of cigarettes ... it was weird, but she didn't feel the need to smoke one, or any, for that matter.
"Dude, what the hell?" Ted asked. Surprisingly, he didn't seem stoned. This might have been the most sober Sydney had ever seen him. "I was just in the bathroom ..." He looked down at himself, then looked back up in alarm. "What am I wearing?" he asked, his eyes wide.
He had a right to panic, Sydney figured. Seeing how he was dressed. It certainly wasn't something he'd normally wear. But then something occurred to her. If Ted was dressed differently ...
Sydney looked down at herself and had the same reaction. What the hell? How did she get dressed like this?
Whose clothing were they wearing now and whose "lives" did they now have?
