Dammit, why couldn't you repair things for shit? You always needed to call a relative or a professional to help. This was no different. Your laptop's keyboard had kinda just died, so you'd been using an external keyboard for the last few weeks. The repairman came in, wearing a very noticeable outfit. Cropped hoodie, revealing his furry midriff, thigh high socks, with (decently short) shorts (and a bit of his thighs were uncovered omg), and arm warmers. He gave you a friendly wave and you led him to the "gore." His only comment was, "Wow, this is worse than listening to people debate my gender!" It wasn't rude, just... a statement. "But it's fixable. Don't worry." A few hours pass, and the two of you are alternating doing your own thing and hanging out. Of course he's still fixing the laptop, but still. He finishes after about an hour. You pay him, and he bids you farewell, but pauses at the door. "Uh... Can I ask a really weird favor?"