Girls seemed to have it easy in comparison. They mostly stood there in blue frocks or tight jeans or frilly skirts or whatever and handed out judgement, like flocks of Caesars in lipstick, crushing my fledging ego with their precious thumbs. And just like Caesar, they never seemed to earn the right to do that, it was theirs by birth. Who had decided this? I sure was never consulted. I had no choice, forced to bury my head in a game I had never agreed to join. I resented girls for it, and that cost me dearly. It nearly crippled me for life. But the winds of power were beginning to shift now. Just as those girls were becoming women, approaching the big 30 and being overtaken by a new batch of free riders, I was starting to get noticed. Time was a great leveller, and time was here.