Apr 22, 2016 2:38pm
I am the only customer in the dark little store. There is a sole female clerk, wearing a short, tightly fitting dress with broad shiny bangles, multiple golden rings on several of her fingers and large golden earrings dangling from her ears, standing behind the counter. I choose three items…
“I would like to have these three, please; each in a paper envelope.”
Meticulously, she removes each from its plastic case, folds the labels, and slips them into paper envelopes. The task takes longer than it should due to her very long, gem-studded fingernails, and her frequent furtive glances in my direction.
“I remember you.”
“You do?… Is it because of the extra work I’m having you do with the envelopes?”
“It’s no problem. You were in here a few months ago.” (She hands the envelopes to me.)
May 03, 2016 1:48pm
Walking with my arms folded, I meet two female acquaintances…
Woman One: “Ooo, Muscles!”
She grabs my right upper-arm and squeezes it.
Woman Two to Woman One: “You know, we’re not supposed to do this. May I?”
She lets her hand slide over my other arm.
Satisfied, they continue on their way…
Apr 08, 2016 6:52pm
“Good afternoon, I would like to order two medium…”
“Oh you want medium this time?”
“But I usually order the mediu…”
“We only have large and small boxes today, so I’ll give you two large for the medium price.”
“Just one large should be fine, thank yo…”
She walks away, fills two large boxes, then brings them to me. This the second time she has done this. Is she trying to fatten me up?
Mar 30, 2016 9:46pm
Why are women trying to set me up for play-dates with their husbands?
Wednesday 2nd November 2016 10:43am
“I just came by to say ‘Hi.’ Actually, I’ll be back in a few minutes. But, I feel like I haven’t seen you in about ten years.”
(But… she saw me last Friday. )
Apr 18, 2016 12:12pm
She is waving to me again. She does it every time she sees me; several times each day.
Last week, she says, she saw me walking down the street as she drove by. She honked her horn but I did not respond.
I tell her that I heard the car horn but could not tell where it came from.
She says I would not have recognized the vehicle; she was driving her husband’s SUV at the time.
Having fallen asleep on the bus again, I am awakened by the sensation of someone’s soft fingertips running gently along my arm. Looking up slowly, without turning my head, I glance to my left to find a quaintly dressed young woman with rather large, deep eyes. I turn to look at her, but she keeps looking out the window with a slight smile on her face. She knows I am looking at her, but doesn’t stop stroking my arm.
By this time I have bypassed my bus-stop and I’m carefully crafting my first words to her. She raises her arm and rings the bus to stop. I have missed my chance to speak to her.
I never see her again…