It’s
been a while and it’s not something I’ve really addressed here so today I want
to talk about something that has always been a curiosity to me, as I’m sure it
has been to all of you. I have worked in retail for a long time. Over half of
that time was spent working with womens clothing and let me tell you, it does
something to a guy, especially one who’s naturally predisposed to being a
little camp. Retail fashion is the sort of environment where you are expected
to judge and critique someone’s appearance and in this environment it often
helps to assume a pose that is non-threatening to the person being scrutinised
so closely. Considering that I was more often than not dealing with women, it
was easy for me to assume the appearance of being gay, and considering that I
was a guy working in fashion, it was almost always assumed of me anyway.
This
opened up a world of possibilities and allowed me to be in situations that
would only terrify the women if they knew what was actually running through my
head as they stood there in bra and undies idly weighing their boobs in their
hands as they considered their next garment to try on. I’ve seen things that I
hope I never forget and things I really hope I do. I’ve had women tell me the
most intimate details about themselves because of my “non-threatening”
demeanour. The amount of times I have said “Your ass looks amazing in that” or
“I’m sorry, but that makes your tits look fantastic” and had positive results
is, well, it’s actually almost retarded. I’ve said things that I’d hesitate
saying to my good friends let alone a total stranger. Actually, that’s a lie. I
have no problem telling my friends they look good. And I’ve approached randoms
on the street just to tell them how amazing they look, so, yeah. Moving on.
And
here’s another thing about being surrounded by women, you begin to notice
things about them, like nail polish. I now have fully formed opinions on nail
polish. And womens shoes. And dresses, god, don’t get me started, I’ll fag out
all over the place. For instance, I was on the tram the other day and there was
this Asian girl and she was smoking hot like, untouchable hot, hotter than a
two dollar pistol hot, and she was wearing these yoga pants and the sneakers
with heels, you know, the whole bit, and the whole time I was looking at here,
and trust me, it was a creeplily long time, the entire time I was thinking,
“Someone did a really great job on dying her hair” because her hair was indeed
dyed purple, but it was really well done. I actually thought, if I was ever to
be able to fuck a girl like this can you imagine what the pillow talk
afterwards would be? I’d be examining her nails and asking her where she got
her hair did.
So I can hear you asking, how has people
thinking you’re gay helped at all, and I’ll tell you some of the times it has
come in handy. For instance, this one time this cute girl, she would have been
about 21, comes into my shop on a Monday morning. she’s walking around in a bit
of a daze and I engage her in conversation, you know, doing the shop thing and
then we get to talking and I swear I don’t even know how it came up but she
starts telling me about this lesbian orgy she had at this party she went to on
the weekend and about hot it was and all the drugs and it was amazing, you know,
just watching her relive it and her youth was shinning through like sunlight
and it was so lovely of her to share this amazing story with me. I was like,
‘Oh wow, that sounds like an amazing time, I remember one time me and this
girl” and she says “Oh, I thought you were gay” and then she got really
embarrassed and told me that she wouldn’t have told me the story if she knew I
was straight, and the way she said it was like she thought that the only thing
I could see in the story was sex and the instant she was gone I was going to
close the doors and run out the back and jerk off over the thought of it. I
wanted to say ‘Hey, its ok, I just appreciate witnessing someones awakening, I
think it’s cool that you’re out there doing your thing and to be honest, I’m a
little jealous’ but you know, these things never come out right and so we made
some slightly awkward conversation and then she left.
And
as soon as she did I closed the doors and ran out the back and jerked off over
the thought of it. I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s the truth when I say I felt
like I owed it to her not to sully this beautiful image of youth and ecstasy
with my lecherous horny thoughts, I swear on my life. I can’t pretend that
there hasn’t been times when after a long day of summer serving some of the
nicest skin this town has to offer, well, at the end of the day the relief is
palpable. If the toilets at my work could talk they would say ‘Yes, he
masturbated in here. And would take half-hour long shits just because he
could’.
This
is a terrible follow up sentence to the last paragraph, but I miss the women
most of all. As a man who truly adores women, especially those that are easy on
the eye, working with womens clothing is, of course, the epicentre of all that
is cool and young and hip and hot. I just wish that I had caught a few more in
my trap, you know, snared a few specimens for my own private perusal. Maybe I
could have asked them where they got their hair did, if only I’d ever got
around to asking them their name.
I
was just thinking then about how in summer I used to have cold bottles of water
or coke for my customers and I’d stand in front of the fan and spray myself
with a water bottle and sometimes for hours no one would come in and the day
would drag in the languid heat and I’d lean in the door way and look out the
insanity that was Smith st and nod to people as they walked by, olde’ shopkeep
like. If I look at it in the right light, I think sometimes that they were some
of the happiest moment of my life. I remember leaving on Friday nights as the
sun was setting thinking that it couldn’t get any better than this. And for a
while I was right, but god damn I wish I hadn’t been.
No comments:
Post a Comment