Kenny Hereford

Green Tea by Bvlgari grabbed my groin.
It reached me through the tiny gap between the floor and the door and I froze.
I hadn't the foggiest hint of who stood on the other side of the door but I decided instantly that someone who wore such a captivating fragrance was someone I just had to meet.
I pushed back against the wall and waited.
The shiny doorknob twisted a fraction.
A shiver of anticipation raced through my frame.
Please God, I pleaded in silence, let her pick me.
The doorknob turned again.
I held my breath.
If the perfume was a tease the person wearing it was a whole bottle ahead.
My mind went racing.
Was she pretty?
Was she young?
Was she shopping on her daddy's credit card?
Would she be coy?
Or brazen?
The door creaked.
A shaft of light rode in.
Five pink-painted toes on a fair foot cradled in a brown camel-hide sandal followed.
It was at that moment the lights went out.
And I went down.
It's a true story. The mirror never lies.


(In a trial/ changing room)