You finish your soda, and you feel like having a second. While you drink, you observe a fellow shrinkee, a tiny man who happened to walk in, interacting with a giant woman through the glass. Her phone read "meet u in the phone rm?" The tiny gave an enthusiastic response. The woman, a busty brunette in a bright red dress, flashed a grin that felt almost predatory, as both participants eagerly made their way to the designated area.
You sigh and think drearily for a while while finishing your second drink. After finishing that much soda, you realize you really have to go to the bathroom. You were really hoping this wouldn't happen, but it would be uncomfortable to hold it in all the way back. With a sigh, you head to the tiny-designated bathroom.
The reason you don't want to go in is the tiny bathroom is actually in a stall in the womens' room. Instead of proper plumbing, the tiny toilets simply lead from a pipe into the norm-sized toilet. At least the tiny bathroom is opaque, but it's not soundproof. While in the middle of doing your business, you can feel the ground shake and almost fall off your toilet as a norm plops down on the seat outside your bathroom. The giant woman sounds rather heavy, and she groans as she unleashed a jet-stream of piss from just outside your box. You try to ignore the disgusting and deafening torrent of water, which is thousands upon thousands of gallons of fluid at your size.
When you head back to the bar, you activate the car service on your phone. This service is frightening for you as well. While the company takes norm passengers very seriously, tiny people have launched all kinds of complaints against drivers, to little avail. Still, you don't have much other choice. Your only other option is to take the tiny-oriented official transport at your university, which is closed at this hour, or to hitch a ride with an actual norm, which is also dangerous.
You shiver in the transparent box, which offers little protection against the weather with its thin plastic walls. Before long, you can hear the sound of high heels making their way toward you. A giant phone swipes by, and there's a loud beep as the roof lifts.
A face beams down at you. It's a prim brunette with thick eyebrows, dark eyes and her hair in a ponytail. She's certainly not the most attractive woman, quite homely even, but at least she looks nice enough.
"You must be Isabel" she says. Before you know it, tree trunk sized fingers with long, razor sharp red nails barrel towards you. You instinctively flinch away, but her grip is soft, like a seasoned professional. She lifts you up into the freezing air. You can see the vehicle ahead. It's a...
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