Oh, fucking... In connection with the friend, I remembered the story of ten years ago. I already had a boy haircut at the time and to the fact that I am often confused with a guy from the back, I got used to that moment. Usually it is enough to turn to a man at least halfway to make him realize that I am a woman. The type of face, the type of figure, the chest, the voice... So, I sit in a square on the bench, I don’t touch anyone, in the player I curl. The man fits, talked to him on a completely neutral topic, she didn’t even remember, and suddenly he asks, “Tell me, and why do you paint?” Do you use female spirits? Are you blue? Of these, yes?" I didn’t understand... I didn’t understand at all. Standing up in all my 180 cm, pulling out my 2nd-size chest, - Are you sure I'm a guy? And in response: "Boyfriend, you would wash the cosmetics... Or even to little or no...". Wasn’t that the companion?