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Just as I work up the courage to do it myslef, someone else opens the door. A squat, forty year old man with an unlit cigar in his mouth enters in and casts a cursory glance over my bare body. With a squeak, I belatedly try to preserve my modesty.
"Ha," the man said through his cigar. "The best part of time travel is the take nothing with you rule. Too complicated, or something. Anyway, this is the first girl on this ship in a long time. We don't have any back up clothes for you, thankfully. I'd be obliged if we did, but now I can have more fun with you as ya are."
With a sinking heart, I realize the perverted man was right. I know my home culture didn't permit cross-dressing under just about any circumstances, and the rule of time travel was certainly right.
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