It was early in the afternoon as I strode in to your kitchen with my empty cup. There you were, bending low, stacking dirty plates into the dishwasher. That ass sticking out provocatively..... so temptingly. But, just as a raise my hand to give it a playful slap you quickly stand upright. "Oh No Stan!" you chuckle, "No time for that! You owe me! So get your American Excuse Card primed ready. We're going shopping and you're paying!"
I gulp. Prising my wallet out of my back-pocket ain't easy. What debt did I owe? What was this money for? I was a little confused. But you're already slipping on your jacket, the keys to your Subaru dangling from your hand.
"Come on Stan! Get your leather jacket on! Remember that night you crept into my bedroom with your sharp knife and cut my nightie off me? Well...... you owe me for that nightie....... And I need recompense!"
Ooooeps! I had forgotten that! Yes..... I did owe you the cost of a new nightie. Didn't I? I grabbed my leather jacket and quickly followed you out of the door.
"But Maria........... can I drive?"
With maybe just a little apprehension you toss me the keys and I stride over to your car and climb behind the wheel as you climb into the passenger seat. "Don't forget your seat-belt Maria," I warn. I'm not sure if they're a legal requirement in Pittsburgh but they are back home in Britain. My fingers brush against yours as we both fit our seat-belts and a little tingle of excitement rushes up my arm. I smile.... I do that a lot when I'm in your company.
I familiarise myself as regards where all the switches and dials all are and turn the key. The engine bursts into life and, after a little fiddle put the car into 'Reverse'. A touch of 'gas' and the vehicle swings off your drive and into the highway. Mebbe just a little over-zealous with the brakes. Ooooeps! Sorry! Beginning to wish you hadn't let me drive now. Too late! Selecting 'Drive' and we're off! Just keep reminding me, as we leave Dorothy Avenue........ that we're supposed to be on the right side of the road here!
Following your directions we make good progress and despite a little error here and there I once more get the hang of driving on the right. Those unfamiliar road-markings took a little getting used to and your traffic lights are kinda tiny.
Quite soon we swung into the parking lot of the shopping mall and drove into a vacant bay. I'm sure I saw you wince as I swung your pride and joy in.... but don't panic! The paintwork is still intact! Honestly!!
As your finding your purse and getting your thoughts together I quickly get out and am able to walk around to open your door. Chivalry? Or just an excuse to take your arm as you slide out of the seat to give you a warm kiss on the lips before slamming the car door shut and holding your hand as we stroll towards the door of the store. As the door swishes open automatically I release your hand but no.... you stop and turn to me.
"Oh no Stan," you say quite sternly, "You're not staying out here on the sidewalk whilst I shop! You're coming in here with me to help me select something nice! Come on!"
And with that you grasp my hand and pull me inside the store!!
Oh heck! Clothes shopping with no avenue of retreat!! HELP!!
This is where men abandon all hope. We have to stay close to the woman we're with. If anyone sees us loitering alone amidst rails of lacy garments we're labeled perverts! But..... if we stand too close to our girls....... We get asked for our opinion! It's a no-win situation! But..... faint hearts never win fair maidens so I follow you as you select a garment or two and...... as you stroll over to the changing rooms to try on your selection I'm more than happy to take a nearby seat and glance at a magazine thankful that at least no-one in the store will recognise me.
"Psssst!"
I glance up from my magazine and from behind the curtain of the changing room see your smiling face. "Psssst! Come here Stan! I need your opinion!" you beckon with some urgency.
Oh heck! My doom is guaranteed here! But I follow you through the curtain and into the changing room. There you are in a dress of gold and black, your back towards me as you admire your figure in the full length mirror. And..... I'm admiring your rear too.... the material clinging to your hips and the cheeks of your ass. And then..... just as I anticipated, I get the, "Does my bum look big in this?"
I take a seat in a small chair behind you. What doe I tell you? If I say "Yes,".... you will pout! If I say "No," you'll accuse me of fibbing! Jeez!!
"Marie," I murmur... "Your bum looks lovely!" Yes Maria... I've skirted around the question and I have a big smug grin on my face as I glance back down at my magazine. Only a second or two passes before......
"What about now?"