# What a Day



## Riptide (Nov 15, 2014)

Something just does not feel right. Everywhere reads pink, but nothing is actually pink. I must be crazed or something, it must be only me. There are pictures of semi naked girls all around, but no guys around gawking. Only female after bustling female. It's practically driving me insane because it's not a sight I want to look at. Other than that it seems as if I'll be mugged.

"I don't like it here," I say to my friend, whose bustling right along with the best of them.

"Like what?" She says, but quickly scampers off, blonde hair swaying behind. I reach out a tender hand but a blaring noise sends it right back to the confides of my pockets. Is it a bomb? Bullets flying? But no one seems to have dropped. Has to be my imagination. 

It must've been the music. A new song maybe. The death melody bounced off the dark walls. Dim lights illuminates my death. I can see it now. They'll turn around, spot me, an outsider, unaccustomed to their ways in my sweats and long sleeve t. They'll growl. Crouching low they'll creep up on me. What they'll do, I don't know.

I spot another friend, dash to her in fear. "Almost done?"  A strand of hope in my voice.

"Let me just try this on," she says as she leaves me alone. I'm out if my element here. I stand erect with my hands jammed in my pockets and pace around. I'm loitering, what will they say? Pervert? But no, I'm not, I'm looking at the clothing, better called lingerie. I'm doing nothing illegal, only waiting. They put up the pictures, not me. Waiting and staring. So fancy. So stringy. Nothing for me, really. 

A lady yells in my ear to someone else. I duck and cover, bending behind a  rack.  I crane my neck. She is gone, thank god. Finally can relax, still these women stare at me, all black and white and laid out. Leering at me. Way too much. Way out of my element. 

I dart out of my hiding spot, going to and fro places, keeping my distance. My friend walks out, scanning the aisles. "Almost," she says with a keen eye of the area.

"I gotta go. Call me when done. I'll be downstairs!" I make my getaway, booking it out. Twist and turns, I cut through the store. Before I make it home free, a lady steps in my path, glaring smile pulling me back.

"Can I help you?" She says with a fake smile.

"No thank you ma'am. I'm heading for the door." 

She nods and I continue, my horror story done. I walk away, feeling my heart calm. Looking back I read the sign, muttering to myself, "Victory Secret just ain't for me. Where's a nice Hot Topic?"


----------



## Plasticweld (Nov 15, 2014)

Rip I love it, being an old perverted guy I knew just were you were after the first paragraph.  Something about a writer who makes me think, doesn't just blast me with information but expects me to think.  As  writer you just grew a couple of inches taller in my book...Bob


----------



## LeeC (Nov 15, 2014)

My my, you've matured as a writer  Care to tell me the secret ;-) 


A very good, in the moment, portrayal of a situation that assaults the senses, pulling the reader in. I got caught up in the flow and didn't notice any nits. I'll try to get back to it to see if there's anything to find, unless I see where others think likewise.  


The style caught my attention because at the moment I'm trying to work through a fictional situation similarly. Soon I'll see your silhouette against the moon, riding your pen to new heights


----------



## Riptide (Nov 17, 2014)

Thanks u guys! It was a new experience for me...


----------



## InstituteMan (Nov 17, 2014)

You have matured as a writer, Rip. FWIW, my wife hates VS too.


----------



## qwertyportne (Nov 18, 2014)

Well done, Rip. Grabbed my attention and held it until the end. Reminds me of when my wife shops for under garments. Even when I stay right on her shoulder, I worry some store detective will put his hand on my shoulder to escort me out of the store for loitering in the lingerie!


----------

