Out Of Order

votenow-2-transIMG_1924Just when routine had become emotionally unsustainable, and Jeff’s PR Executive job made him envy all kinds of deviants, surfers and soldiers, a storm broke out on a Monday morning.

He was on his break at the local coffee shop, amused by a foreign woman who was complaining to the waiter about not being served Blueberry Syrup in her Lattee. Oh what an accent.

Before heading back to work he checked the rain through the massive window and went to the Toilet. A new Gender Neutral toilet they had built just to make him feel naughty.

As he was waiting she walked in and ignored his smile. A smile that had got him quickly up the social ladder and was even better than any techie gadget that was yet to be invented. Was he losing his appeal?

She stood in silence like a bronze renaissance statue making him feel more and more self conscious.

“After you!” Jeff cried.

She looked surprised.

” Are you a time traveler? Because real gentlemen only exist in the olden days.”

“I am indeed a time traveler, but where I come from I struggle with undoing tight women’s corsets.” He said, surprising himself.

“Watch this” she snapped and smiled. Pulling a lipstick bar out of nowhere she wrote

OUT OF ORDER

on the door, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him inside, just as very bad thunder stroke.

A Kiss. Another Kiss.

“Give me your phone” and she switched it off.[sociallocker][/sociallocker]

” Your watch” and she flushed down rhe loo his 4K collector’s item.

The cabinet was the right size to satisfy both of their repressed instincts, with UV lights taking them to forbidden land on the Baby Changing Table.

“I don’t have…” he hesitated

” Shut up! This bitch is doctored” and pointed at a scar on her belly- button.

She snatched his wedding ring and swallowed it.

He felt taken away by a vicious flood, helpless and grateful and merging into civilisation like he had never known it before.

The Blueberry woman had actually just tied her hair into a ponytail, unlike all the women before her who let their hair loose for interaction.

Jeff Adams, the PR Executive at Tengams & Co was reclaiming a missed out teenagehood.

He had no idea how long this lasted, but as he tied his shoelaces she rushed out, grabbing her Blueberry- less lattee and undoing her hair.

After the shaking event Jeff had to make the building receptionist buzz him in because he couldn’t find his Pass.

He didn’t keep this woman in his heart- he  kind of carried her in his pocket everywhere he went, now with eyes wide open to any blowing encouter a sudden weather change  could bring.

As for  the ring, his wife only noticed it was missing after three months – forcing him to lie like a kiddo about it.

But the second best reward he got from this fling was -his very annoying sciatic pain vanished like Black Magic.

About a year later, on a rainy Tuesday morning, he saw an “out of order ” scribble on his office door.

” Great, I get the day off” he thought, but opened the door anyway…. to see…. the Blueberry Latte Woman sitting on his desk with a baby who was playing with his collector’s watch.

Their eyes met like a fox’s looking into wolf’s on a hungry full moon night.

“These belong to you.” She handed his Pass, ring and… watch! and also the heavy baby. She immediately walked out before he could say anything, leaving the buggy behind.

The medical papers of the kid were carefully filed in a bag inside the buggy, and it only took him a DNA test and a cheeky lawyer to claim his father rights.

He couldn’t believe his “perfect” wife understood and welcomed the baby, as they had been trying for one for over eight years.

Since then, he always checks with the local waitress that they have a full stock of Blueberry Syrup…

The End

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The Other Woman

votenow-2-transI am not the jealous type. But what happened to me last Christmas changed my marriage for good.

I had been suspecting her existence for a couple of months -but I didn’t think twice when I was sent to a Seminar in Manchester for a week: “if he’s got to see her he will anyway “.

My marriage with my teenage love was too perfect and I would even say boring for Her not to appear like a flesh Ghost. I hadn’t mentioned her to anyone, all I did was get myself a small cute notepad in Cards Galore, and tracked down the clues she left behind. I secretly enjoyed this and carried on with my life.

But when I got back from that Manchester Seminar and found he was not home, I thought myself a fool. Instinctively I went through the bedroom and en suite bathroom to find a case left behind.

It was a tablet case… with no tablet. All there was inside was a collection of cards I avidly went through one by one. This woman was spoilt, and popular. All cards said something like “free ” or “gift” on them, and there was a handful of VIP business cards too.

My darker side took hold of me and I quickly went to my little home desk and sat down to find a place to hide the treasure.[sociallocker][/sociallocker]

“Mother Christmas I shall call her”.

Still trembling with excitement I took a quick shower and undid my luggage. Stan had called to say he had a last minute football ticket given by his colleague and would be back home soon.

Nobody ever reclaimed the little “Christmas present ” but the following months were a new beginning thanks to the cards.

I had used one of the Spa vouchers for an egyptian mud treatment which knocked five  years off my skin complexion . I joined a belly dancing group with her membership card and started to enjoy a kind of sex appeal only celebrities can show off. I used the VIP contacts to make my way through a career change.

And best of all, my wardrobe got revamped and Stan said he couldn’t recognize the “new woman ” I had become. So he took me on a second honeymoon where we finally conceived twins.

While we were there on a drunk night by the fireplace, I confessed my little detective book and so he said She was just a woman he was trying to sign a deal with and who lurred him into intimacy. He said he had set her up with the football fan colleague to get rid of her -and now these two were engaged.

Drunk as he was, he showed me a video of her on his phone where she is shouting at a cabbie in Spanish.

“By the way, can I ask you Jennifer – you don’t happen to have a sugar daddy buying you all this expensive sexy underwear, do you?” And I spilled the whiskey on the sheepskin rug….

 

The End

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