Over the course of the years I have been privilege to attempt many occupations of varying interest. Working backstage at a dinner theatre may have been one of the most interesting for the Kid in deed, but then again all restaurants of any flavor other than “fast-food” tend to draw some unique individuals. Retail, however, can bring about days of the most ridiculous in nature. To start with, the customer is always right. I mean ALWAYS! You have to make them happy. You have to capitulate nearly to a point of no self-respect (the Kid has some problem with this), but every once in while opportunities do present themselves for the salesman to have a laugh at the customer’s expense or exploit for personal gain.
I was working in a rather prominent book store of which I don’t think I will ever do again… give me clothes… women’s clothes I think; that could be interesting, but books? No way. On this one particular afternoon the Kid wasn’t feeling overly ambitious about the daily tasks of stocking shelves and asking the occasional patron if they were finding everything alright when I was approached buy two fairly attractive young ladies.
“Excuse me,” asked the slightly less attractive of the two.
“Hello. How may I help you today?” I greeted with a toothy grin.
Returning my smile she continued, “I want a book.”
My smile gained some integrity, “Well, you have definitely come to the right place.” I motioned in an extravagant circle at the walls of hardcovers, paperbacks, and other stylish tomes of unfathomable virginal worlds yet unexplored.
The slightly more attractive young woman giggled. The undecided book searcher pressed further, “Yea. I just don’t know what I want, but I know I want to read something…"
I started taking slow little steps toward the center display for one of the latest erotic bestsellers, “Well, may I ask what you are into?”
The two ladies followed my lead and strolled along with me. Pretty countered my inquiry with one of her own, “I don’t know. What are you into?”
Smiling as I studied the young woman’s face, the realization of the control she had just given me was nearly overwhelming. You see, at this point she has asked a very personal question and I could tell by the delicate smile and somewhat widen eyes she was genuinely interested in what the Kid had to say. I could tell her anything. I could divulge some really weird shit and possibly freak her out to the point she might run off with her friend, both screaming; but I could then tell the manager the young lady had asked so I told her exactly what was on the Kid’s mind. What else was I to do? I could also play this right into my hands.
I stopped perhaps six feet from the center display of the bestselling erotic novel and leaned in just a bit closer to the young ladies, “I like sex.”
Pretty’s eyes opened wider as Prettier shrieked a little laugh and covered her mouth with her hand. I supplemented with, “you asked.”
They both smiled and Pretty spoke, “I did, and I do… I mean I too. ME too.” Prettier snickered more as her friend stumbled about her words.
Once someone is flustered you have to keep the conversation moving. You have to keep them “on the ropes” so to speak. Slipping back to salesman just a bit, I inquired further, “Oh, well have you read any of these?”
As I made my sweeping gesture to the center display of erotic bestselling trite, Pretty’s expression shifted to that of interest, “No I haven’t.”
Prettier added, “Ooo, Debbie was telling me about that book, Trace. She said it was…”
“Fucking Hot.” I finished.
Both girls tittered as Prettier acknowledged, “Yea.”
“What makes it hot?” Pretty asked with sheepish grin.
Now it was here I saw an opportunity to exploit further. I am a young viral man who has exposed his interest in sex to two attractive young women and been requited through coy exploits on the ladies’ parts. Could I dare dream that this might end up as an excellent example of one of those cheap sultry stories found in the back of magazines we often don’t like to mention? Perhaps once I have given an adaptation of the highlights found in this erotic bestseller; I make the sale and head to the nearest ladies’ boutique dressing room with these lovelies for what would undoubtedly be a uniquely volcanic experience for all.
I began to explain, “Well, for starters this young business woman learns to explore and experience…”
An amazingly beautiful woman in a light colored sleeveless skirt-dress standing fifteen feet away cut my erotic plot synopsis short, “Uh-um.”
The two young ladies immediately focused their attention on the older but much more attractive woman. “Oh,” Pretty gasped.
“Tracy, you and Angela make your way to the food court; your sister is finding us a table.” The woman approached me as she glared at Pretty, who was in step with Prettier on their way out the story. Her blonde hair pulled back in a pony tale bounced a little as she stepped towards me and the center display, “May I ask you something?”
I can never resist, “You just did.” My smile huge, I noticed she has no ring on the third finger of her left hand.
“Cute,” her grin became a smirk and then more of a sneer, “Who do you think you are coming onto young girls like that? They’re only fifteen years old!”
She was nearly in my face and with her heels on placed her slender little nose almost to my chin. My smile broke into astonishment and I pleaded, “Oh, God, I am so sorry. I thought they were… look, I had know idea your sisters were so young.”
The beautiful lady in the skirt-dress chuckled, “I am related to only one and that would be my daughter.”
Sweet. I continued, “No way… no way. Please do not take this the wrong way but there is no way either of those beautiful young ladies could be your daughter. You can not possibly be the mother of a fifteen year old.”
“She’s almost sixteen,” she giggled and stepped back just a little from my space.
“Again,” the opportunity had shifted, “had I known those girls were so young I never would have suggested such a book… but for a more mature woman, have you read this?”
Her smile broadened and she stared into my eyes with a slight leer, “Actually I have.”
“What did you think?” Here was the gamble.
She turned to face me, “I think they were poorly written but the intimacy amazing. You?”
Her green eyes sparkled. I went all in, “I would love to tell you over dinner tonight. Your place.”
I must say that dinner went well for the Kid, as did the breakfast the next morning. What really hit home for me though was my immediate change of mental state. The two young girls were women in my mind. I presumed 18 or 19, young but still women. My playful mannerisms, facial expressions, and verbal banter were completely fine in my head when I saw the girls as attractive women. Physically they were attractive women, this reality didn’t cease just because I was confronted with their mother. I had had mental visions of erotic activities involving these girls in the nearby women’s clothing dressing room just seconds before my brain would scream, “You freaking sick SOB! Their 15 year old girls!” Yet my first instinct was sexual when I encountered them.
I would never want to be labeled as a pedophile and I whole-heartedly believe any manipulation (other than Santa) or crimes committed towards children to be the worst perpetrations against man possible and those actions should have serious repercussions. Where did my mind change though? Where did the physical reality of two attractive women become the social reality they are just girls? How did I go from predator to protector so fast? Had their mother never came, had I never known the facts, what would the reality have been?