Victoria's Secret

Due to the sad state of the economy and the even sadder state of my wallet, I have had to curb my shopping habits. Not that I'm a full blown shopaholic, mind you, and I certainly don't have expensive taste when it comes to anything but books. But we all need a few essentials now and then and today, I needed underwear. Again, nothing too fancy (Frederick's of Hollywood is for "that" side of things.) Just simple, plain, cotton bikinis in neutral colors. Why is this an issue? Because when I walk in, the girl up front greets me and says all the "plain" panties are in the way back. Where I suddenly spot an incredibly cute boy.

Dilemma.

Do I pretend to be interested in the silky, satiny, lacy little things that barely cover my ass and itch to high heaven? Or do I stick with plan A and let appearances be damned? Well, ask me a month ago and I would've feigned adoration for the "sexy little numbers" with tiny heart patterns and rhinestones on them. But in my older and wiser years (29 soon, bleck!) I have thrown other people's opinions of me out the proverbial window. I strode up to the "Essentials" table with all the confidence in the world.

That's when he said, "Can I help you find anything?" Oh crap. Cute boy works here.

Shaking off my sudden self-awareness, I told him politely that I was post-break-up and looking for all new underwear, nothing sophisticated, in a range of colors, size extra large. Yes, I did want to hide under the table and die, just a little bit. But we've already established that I am no size 2, I am a healthy 12 and with these "wide hips" (see previous blog for reference) I needed an extra large. There was no getting around it. I figured if I was already going for cotton, I might as well be comfortable in them.

Do you know that boy didn't even flinch? He didn't make a face at my size (as being in that store, as so many others, can make even a normal sized girl feel fat). He just went about asking what colors I'd like, did I want another black one, did I know about the sale... And at this point I'm staring. Like legitimately staring at him cause I realize just how gorgeous he is. Floppy, jet black curls framing his sun-kissed face. Excellent body even under the head to toe black button down shirt and slacks he has to wear. Strong hands picking up underwear that will be covering my most private parts later... it's all too much to bear. I have to say something.

"So your girlfriend doesn't mind you working in Victoria's Secret? Helping other women pick out things like this?" He gives me this shy, slow sort of smile. "Nope. Don't have a girlfriend. But I'm 18 and I've seen my share of panties."

18????? Did I just become a Cougar???

I smile back, thank him, pay the cashier, and run like hell out of the mall, all the while thinking that's probably the best employee Victoria's Secret has ever hired.