It was a sunny afternoon, and with a little extra cash in my fanny pack, I decided to treat myself to some discounted designer at the local department store. I walked in with confidence, Apple Pay, and a smile. Then YOU caught my eye.
You were in the men's shoe department. There was an indescribable, magnetic pull that brought me closer with zero explanation:
No rhyme.
No reason.
Just desire, craving, sensuality, and animal instinct.
With each step I took, my heart beat faster and faster.
What was I to say?
How was I going to strike up a conversation deeper than commonplace smalltalk?
Would you like what you saw?
Gosh. I hadn’t even plucked my moustache.
So many intrusive thoughts. Then, you made it easy.
“Excuse me, do you have this in a size 12?”, you asked, with a twinkle in your eye.
Of course I was not going to tell you that I wasn’t on shift, or that I didn’t actually work there. I would play along with the bit and reveal the truth after the fact.. when it all made sense. For now, I had your attention; something to be cherished, not mismanaged or fumbled about.
You handed me the shoe, our thumbs grazed, electric.
And with that, I instructed you to sit tight, assuring that I’d be back momentarily with an appropriate procurement.
Rushing to locate a sales associate, I quickly returned with not one, not two, but THREE options. I insisted that you sit on the bench and that I, personally fit you. Staring deep into your eyes, I unlaced your dirty Vans and struggled to remove them from your feet. You gently laughed, “I could get used to this treatment”, you said.
I slowly slipped on your brand new sneaker. It was like a moment from Cinderella.
“Perfect fit”, I whispered.
You looked down at me, and asked what time my shift was over.
I said, “baby, I don’t work here”
You were stunned, a little taken aback. I shrunk inward, chastising myself for possibly speaking up too soon. Then you softened the mood with a smile, asking if I’d like to join you for ice cream, chocolate/vanilla swirl is your favourite.
Lucky for you, I also love a good swirl ;)
After paying for the sneakers, we walked through the front entrance, hand in hand. You asked, “have you ever been with a superstar?”
I replied, “once, but things didn’t work out”
“His loss”, you proclaimed.
At the ice cream shop, I popped a Lactaid pill, then we ordered the swirl (with lots of toppings because you “like it messy”). Of course we shared a spoon while taking turns feeding each other.
Under the table, I removed my croc, placing a bare foot into your lap. You hummed my name.
“Careful, girl. You don’t wanna unleash the dragon”, you teased.
“Well, butter me up and call me Khaleesi, because I’d love to ride your dragon”, I quickly added.
You were speechless. Sharply exhaling, before softly massaging my foot;
“This little piggy went to the market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none…”
Silence took over the moment, as our souls connected.
You continued, “and this little piggy”, while pointing to yourself, “would love to take you, all the way home”
“All… the way home?”, I asked, probing for clarity while conveying consent. Bare foot still rubbing lightly, yet strategically on your lap.
All. The. Way. Home.
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