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?
