Sincerity through clenched teeth (pt. 2)

I come across these pants: black, baby-wale cords, slim fit, and half-price. They sound perfect, in theory. I have to try them on. Thankfully, there’s no one around. I sneak off to the change room.

When I come out, there she is: the aforementioned blonde with the black, second skin, full lips, and white teeth.

I imagine her sucking in her breath through her clenched smile; her tongue pressed up against her front teeth.

She’s going to berate me for my choices in fashion, family, friends, career, and anything that comes across her mind.

But, that doesn’t happen. I walk, rather tentatively, towards the 3-way mirror. She stands behind me.

“Those pants really do look good on you. They are a little long, but I am sure they can be hemmed.”

“Mmmm,” I reply. “The slim fit actually makes me look like I have a butt.”

“Not many men can wear that cut. They actually look really good on you.”

My sweater rests just below the belt loops. I touch the sides of my thighs, smoothing out the material. It’s silky. My hands trail upwards, and my thumbs find their way inside of the waistband; they rest there.

I see her eyes wonder up and down my backside, appraising the pants and my butt.

“You know what? I think I’ll take them.”

“Excellent!”

Finally, a sales associate who knows what to say, and when to say it to whom. No false sincerity. No visions of commissions.

I thank her for her time, turn away from the mirrors and make my way to the change room. I make sure that I pull up the pants just a little so my butt cleavage is firmly supported.

She notices. I like her… now.

For the price of a pair of pants, I managed to get a smile, positive reinforcement on my fashion sense, and an inferred compliment on my butt.

Panic attack averted. I should shop here more often.