12
1165 Words
Dring! Drinnngggg!
The phone keeps ringing. Emilia takes my calls without my asking her. What love, this young woman!
I don’t see the morning go by. I immersed myself body and soul in the work to avoid thinking about the strangeness of my situation.
At work, I’m the efficient type. I realize that I’m very good at finance. I like to earn money and to help others. I never thought I could say this, even if my little spiel at my parents’ house the other night should have tipped me off. I love the Stock Exchange. I spend hours interpreting the curves of the Nasdaq and contacting clients who have entrusted me with their assets. I play for them at the same time as for myself. They win, I win! Everybody is happy. When I hesitate, I question Paul and together, we usually make the right choices. I understand why we are deputies. First, because we have a large portfolio of clients who trust us and that for one person would be unmanageable, and second, because we’re truly complementary. Since I was a man, I’ve taken a different look at Paul. I’m thinking about him when he pokes his head into my office, which makes me jump.
“A squash game, would you like that?” he asks me as if he already knows my answer.
I’ve never played squash in my life as a woman, but as a man, I’m capable of so many things. It shouldn’t be too complicated:
“Yeah, okay!”
“Okay, I’m reserving a court for one o’clock. We’ll eat on the go right after. Is that okay with you?”
It’s twelve-fifteen and my stomach has been rumbling for a long time, but I have to be strong. If Paul can do it, then I must be able to do it too.
“Perfect! I take it my things are in the car?” I say out loud.
“Logically yes, unless you haven’t washed them since the last time.”
“Ah… I don’t know.”
“Okay... Your amnesia continues, it seems.”
“No, no, everything’s fine,” I say with a big smile that wants to be reassuring. “One o’clock! We’ll meet at the reception in 15 minutes.”
“Very well but where are you going?”
“Just a little errand to do,” I said, already standing.
I leave my post to go to the sports store located a few steps from our building. I’m sure I don’t have any clean clothes in my car. I’m going to buy myself a complete outfit: shoes, socks, shorts and a T-shirt, maybe even some boxer shorts, though… I won’t be able to put them on if I haven’t washed them at least once… Okay, we’ll see. I sneak past Jean, the receptionist, hiding behind other people who are leaving for lunch. She doesn’t see me, phew!
I arrive in the store knowing exactly what I want. I walk over to the sneaker department and take a look at what I like. A female voice asks me:
“Hello. Can I help you?”
I discover a pretty brunette, dressed in brand colours, with glasses that give her an intellectual side despite her sporty outfit.
“Hello! Uh, yeah, I’m looking for a pair of sneakers to play squash.”
“Okay, in what size?”
“In thirty-eight, please.”
“Uh, did you say thirty-eight? Are you sure?” she said looking at my feet. “Ah, I get it, they’re for your girlfriend, right?” she adds, smiling.
What a fool, I gave her my female size!
“Uh, no. To be honest, I’ve forgotten my shoe size!”
“You don’t know your shoe size? Okay, so for the men, they’ll be on that side.”
I follow her obediently to the shelves in question.
“Here we are!” she says. “I’ll check your shoe size. Okay, start by sitting down! You’ll be more comfortable.”
“Yes, that’ll be more practical, indeed.”
“I’ll take your shoe off, can I?”
She’s super sweet. I tell myself that she’s very brave. One of my female phobias is seeing people’s feet. I don’t like feet. She barely brushes against me as my tool jumps. Hell! I’m hypersensitive! Is my whole body super erogenous? I try to concentrate on controlling my emerging erection. No, Julie, she just brushed your ankle! She’s only doing her job, a job! You can’t jump on anything that moves, get a grip on yourself, boy!
“Okay, in dress shoes, you’re forty-three. We’re going to go with that,” she said, picking up a blue and black pair. “Do you like these?”
I barely look at them. I don’t care. Time is running out and if this continues, I’m going to be late for my meeting with Paul. This shopping session is starting to drag on and I don’t have the rest of my outfit yet.
“They’ll be fine! Look, it fits! I’ll try the other as a precaution but it should be okay.”
“Very well! Are you happy with them?”
I look like a redneck in my suit and my sneakers. I can’t help but smile as I look at myself in the mirror. The saleswoman realizes it.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“Because I find the set very matching,” I say in the most sarcastic tone in the world.
“You’re not bad, I think!” she said blushing.
Is she hitting on me now?
“Do you need anything else, sir?”
“Yes, indeed, shorts, socks and a T-shirt.”
“For a man or a woman?” she asks with a big smile.
“For a man!” I said in a sexy voice, thinking that I was an incorrigible rascal. “On the other hand, I’m in a hurry, can we accelerate the pace, please,” I add a bit authoritative.
“Oh yes, so for the T-shirt, L should fit you, unless you want it looser, in which case it’ll be an XL.”
“An L will be good!”
“And for the shorts, these will be perfect! Do you want to try them?”
“No, no, I don’t have time! They’ll be fine. You have very good taste. Thank you very much,” I said, grabbing my things to go to the cash register. “You’re very friendly! Looking forward to seeing you again!”
I leave her standing there, motionless. I bet she’s looking at me but not having eyes in the back of my head, I can’t be sure. It’s my feminine instinct that tells me, or rather my heightened confidence since I was a man.
At the checkout, I grab a pair of white socks, an energy drink, shower gel and deodorant. I’m ready! At last.
- Writer
