As my second floor apartment is located above the bottle shop on Main Street, I leisurely make my way to the Newsagency, passing a department store along the way. Think I’ll just have a little look-see. What harm? Ooooh look! A sale bin full of designer knickers. How can a girl resist? Start throwing pretty pastel printed pants all over the shop in an ecstasy normally kept behind closed doors. Reach down to pick up a pair with sparkling stars on them, when instead feel another hand. Hmmm, I am prepared to put up a struggle if need be. Am in luck. The hand is definitely male and as my eyes move upwards discover a pair of the blackest, most intense eyes a girl could fall into. However, not being one for falling unless it’s off a bar table top at two a.m., I am immune to this delectable male specimens charms. So far. He chuckles at me something about my stamina and persistence and feels that an alcoholic beverage would be in order to “calm me down”. Little does he know the effect is usually quite the opposite.
Never one to turn down a free drink, he guides me to the in house café. There we spend the entire afternoon together sharing expensive bottles of wine (bought by him), extremely witty banter (mostly by me), sexy laughter (me again), fluttering eyelashes (that’s him), suggestive licking of lips (both of us), sliding off chairs (that’d be me), snoring on the floor (yep, me again), and yelling and screaming over a waste of time and money (all him – charming aint he?).
NEXT DAY:
Awake to flashing in my eyes. Seems I have been placed in the department store window and am a vital part of the installation for the new women’s wear floor. It’s an art work piece on the humiliation of women in modern society. I am employed in my dream job!
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