He was feeling pretty shitty that day. At least until he looked up.

There you were, your radiance eclipsing the gloom of the rainy day. It seemed any moment now, an angelic choir would burst into joyous song. The streets no longer looked so filthy and infested - it was as if some fairy godmother had waved her wand, transforming discarded garbage into glistening sports cars and scavenging rats into skipping, singing, whistling, beaming city people. Your white T-shirt was translucent and paper-thin, completely soaked by the rain and clung to the small of your back. Your glistening blonde ponytail swished behind you in ambiguous gestures (he tried to decipher some sort of hidden language in those movements) as you pedaled on your bike through the rain.

Entranced and with a skip in his step, he managed to catch up to you at the crosswalk of the intersection. He was feeling pretty good. Until you looked up.

And he saw that you were a man.

Must have been the ponytail.