"I
hate rain!" The young woman in the parking lot yelled. She stood
in one spot, face to the sky, stamping her feet in a puddle.
I
watched her for several moments before approaching her. A man has to
be cautious about walking up to a woman in a mall parking lot. He can
get a face full of pepper spray or a tazer to the nads. Especially, I
might add, a man who looks like me. I have a dozen tattoos, body
piercings, a shaved head, goatee and several earrings in both ears.
I'm also rather muscular. In short, I'm potentially a little scary.
Standing at least eight feet away, I cleared my throat. The woman was
soaked and shivering, dressed in a lightweight woman's suit with a
skirt. I was in bluejeans and denim jacket. The rain didn't bother
me.
"Ma'am?
Are you in need of assistance? I can get the mall security."
"I
can't find my car!" She started to cry. Her makeup was a wreck,
mascara running down her cheeks in black rivulets. Her hair lay in
sleek, wispy curls giving her a waif like, little girl lost look. It
was so wet, I couldn't tell the color.
"Let's
get out of the rain," I suggested. "I'll find a security
guard and see what we can do."
It
took very little persuasion to lead her back into the mall. Careful
to keep my distance, I took her to the hair salon just inside the
doors. They fetched towels and called security. I brought the young
woman a cup of coffee from the staff lounge and sat with her. She
shivered and held her coffee like a lifeline. I talked to her quietly
to calm her down.
Mall
security showed up about 10 minutes later. They stood around
scratching themselves a lot. After a few prompts from me, they got
the important information and went to look for her car. While they
were gone, the ladies in the salon offered to do the woman's hair and
makeup for free.
The
security officers started with the place she said she had parked, but
there was another car in the space. After wandering around for about
45 minutes, they decided to check the rest of the lot. They came up
empty.
*
* *
Miss
Woodstone and I were left alone in the parking lot. I backed up a few
feet, hands in my pockets.
"Thank
you so much for all your help." She smiled and fiddled with her
keys. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
"You
would have thought of security eventually."
"But
I wouldn't. I guess I'm kind of dumb."
"I
doubt that," I chuckled nervously. I'm not all that suave
talking to women.
"I'd
like to thank you properly. How about dinner tonight? My treat."
"That
would be great. Your husband won't mind?"
"Not
married," she wiggled her ring finger. "Or engaged."
She
sighed. It did nice things to her chest, but I forced myself not to
stare.
"I'd
like that. I'm single too," I admitted rather shyly
I
didn't tell her it was because I didn't date all that much. I've had
five girlfriends in the last six years. I hate meeting new women. I
express myself rather outrageously with my appearance, but I'm really
shy.
"Shall
I pick you up?" she asked politely.
"I'd
be happy to meet you. Where and what time?"
"The
Swinging Monkey at seven."
"Can
you get a reservation that quickly?"
The
Swinging Monkey is a new, exclusive, trendy restaurant.
"I've
been on the books since before it opened. I came here to pick up some
new shoes to go with my dress. I just had my hair done when the rain
came."
"Unpredictable
weather around here."
"So
I've noticed. Well, I need to go, Chase. See you at seven!"
"I
look forward to it, Miss Woodstone." I held out my hand to her.
"Tracey,"
she corrected with smile and a flicker of her eyelashes.
"Tracey,"
I amended myself. I took her hand graciously to my lips.
©
2017 Dellani Oakes
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