Drew didn’t build the changing room, it was already there when he bought the shop.  What he did was monetize it.  Most people go into a changing room to see if a garment fits.  Some high end stores have changing rooms that adjust the garment so it fits.  Drew’s changing room was backwards, it adjusted the person so the garment fit.  As such Drew rarely sold clothes, he rented the changing room.

His regulars would come in, usually with their own garments, and pay a small fee to use his changing room.  Sad to say Drew stayed in business due mostly to women who didn’t want to change their lifestyle, but still wanted to fit into their highschool pants, or their wedding dress.   

Others came to borrow one or more of his garments.  He had pants cut for spiders, wing wraps, horn warmers, tail koozies.  A frequent peruser of garage sales, Drew had some really exodic items, a full length naga one piece swimsuit, snow pants that belonged to a millipede, and masks and muzzles for every size face.   Along with these specialty items, he had clothing from size 0000 to well past 100. Some of Drew’s patrons were artists crafting a body all their own.  They rented both the garments and the room. 

Still Drew had a third group of patrons, his personal favorite group.  Those who had no idea what he sold.  Such as the Cockatoo currently hiding behind his first row of shelves.  Drew had to shake his head at the bird.  He was so worried about what might see him from the door, he had missed the mirror reflecting him perfectly a few feet to his right.

Drew opened a drawer in his counter and selected from it a mask.  The rabbit then wandered down one of his least used aisles selecting a variety of articles.  Finally he came to the first row, stepping between the Cockatoo and the mirror.

“Excuse me!” 

The bird jumped, kicking out with a clawed foot. 

“Oh!?” He said, trying to get his crest under control. “Please I wont be here long, I just…” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Please,” the bird begged.

Drew offered the stack of clothing. “Fitting rooms are in the back, Sir.” 

“What? Oh! Yes, fitting rooms!”

“This way sir.”

In no time Trent was in a large fitting room.  The rabbit had left a pile of clothes.  Trent didn’t actually plan on putting any on. Who needs clothes when you have feathers? Besides, most clothes just made flying difficult.  Still with nothing better to do, he looked through the stack.

Trent was surprised to find that the clothes were all silks and lace, they had no weight to them at all.  Who would have expected real bird clothing in a no name shop like this?  Trent picked up the mask, he looked at it and chuckled.  The foolish rabbit didn't realize it was for a Flamingo.  He put it on, of course it fit over his beak, it was huge.  

For a moment everything was dark, as Trent tried to line his eyes up with the poorly sized mask.  When it was finally settled, Trent had to admit, it fit surprisingly well. He glanced at the mirror, yep the mask made him look like a Flamingo, it must have been made for a Cockatoo after all.  Trent got closer to the mirror wondering how the mask hid his eyes.  He didn’t think he was looking through painted gause,  but the only eyes on the mask were Flamingo’s?

Trent turned to the pants chuckling, Flamingo again. There was no way his stubby legs would fit through these pants. Still he sat down and slid the silken garment on.  The lights in the booth flickered causing Trent to look around. Had they found him? No he was alone.  He looked back at the silly garment. The vibrant green threads were pulled tight, as long flamingo legs filled them. Trent jumped up, they were his legs and they lifted him much too high.  He opened his wings and flapped to keep from falling over. 

Trent was standing on long stilt like Flamingo legs.  What the hell?  He looked in the mirror. His flamingo mask topped a Cockatoo’s body, standing on flamingo legs? Again what the hell.  He pulled the mask off, revealing a flamingo's beak and small face. Trent let out a startled squawk.  This was insane.  

A knock on the door and the rabbit said “Everything alright Sir? Do you need a different size?”

Trent didn’t know how to tell the rabbit he needed a different species. He looked at the mirror, then at the rest of the clothes, were they also cut for a flamingo? An idea dawned on him, nobody would expect him to be a flamingo. Hurriedly Trent picked up the shirt, a lacy garment that shimmered emerald green, and weighed maybe half a pound total.  He pulled the long sleeve of material down over his head, letting it form a thick collar.  Then he threaded his wings into the sleeves, finally the light hooks pined the oversized garment together in front of him.

Again the lights seemed to flicker.  Trent found himself looking down at the world.  He spread his wings, experience telling him he must be airborne to see the world from this height. Then he chuckled. Folding his wings back against his side.  He looked in the mirror, wondering why he was still stark white.  On the floor was the mask and one more item of clothing.  Trent picked it up, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was.

He stood for a moment, he hadn’t changed back when he had removed the mask.  He certainly couldn’t afford these clothes. Carefully he undressed, and waited. Nothing happened, he was still a white flamingo.  He stuck his head out of the fitting room.  Seeing the rabbit was back at the main desk.

Drew watched the awkward flamingo as it approached him. Knee flips always caused customers such trouble.  He noted that the fellow hadn’t worn the tail drape.  Not surprising as a long tailed species rarely knew what they were.  This did mean he was still a sir. 

It was a struggle but Drew kept his professional face as he watched the long tailed flamingo approach him. “Find anything you like sir?”

“Um, no, ah, thank you.”

“Very well, have a good day sir.”