So, I've been meaning to tell you about how an older woman took me under her wing when I was a teen.
I was working at Hawthorne Co. Luxury Goods in the Atlantic Crossing mall. I was tall for my age and enjoyed flirting with the older guys who responded to my saucy glances. But I already knew that I wanted to be with women too.
In December, a new manager named Michelle came on board. In her late 20's, she was married with three kids, but also volunteered at a feminist collective on Fuller Boulevard and brought books like Our Bodies, Ourselves and My Secret Garden to read on her break.
Sometimes, when the store was quiet, we'd talk about men, dating, relationships, and sex. I confessed to her one day that I had strong bi desires, had fooled around with my little girlfriends over the years, and wanted to take it much further with an older woman. Michelle told me she'd keep her eyes open at the collective and try to find the right match for me.
But neither of us was prepared for what happened when Elaine strode into the otherwise unoccupied store that Monday morning. It was just before lunch hour.
She had wavy shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes and full lips, and the way she carried herself was a perfect model of early-40's, take-no-bullshit authority. She wore a classic dark pea coat over a white silk blouse, unbuttoned to give a hint of her black bra, along with a red skirt and black knee-high leather boots. It wasn't hard to guess from her Prada handbag that she was a successful businesswoman.
She walked right past Michelle, who was closer to the entrance, and came up to me, holding out her beautifully manicured hand and making direct eye contact as she introduced herself. Hawthorne Co. Luxury Goods had just introduced a new commission scheme, and so I was delighted when Elaine said she wanted to buy one of the new gold bracelets we were selling in a special seasonal line.
"It's for a girl about your age," Elaine told me. "Put that one on."
Did she know how old I was? I felt my face flush with excitement as Elaine coolly and unabashedly appraised me. I tried to tell her about the New Mexico artist who had designed the bracelets, but she cut me off: "I want the most expensive one."