Fiction, Writing
A short story.
8:45 a.m.
All the women who come to the store are fat. Alice pretends to be nice to them—she works on commission—but she hates her job. She doesn’t understand how she, the prettiest one in the store, is the only one who can pull off wearing the lingerie. But she can’t afford these sexy fabrics, so she spends her days sucking up to the women with jiggly thighs and muffin-tops in hopes that one day she can own her own lacy bra.
9 a.m.
Alice goes back to hanging corsets. She closes her eyes, pretending for a second that she’s shopping—something sexy to light up her pretend boyfriend. In her mind he’s tall and strong and his eyes widen in delight when he sees her in a black teddy.
“Alice?” Margery, the slut, taps Alice out of her daydream. “We have a customer.”
“Be right there.” Alice hangs up the last corset and turns expecting to find the first fat woman of the day. Instead she sees a thin man.
He bounces when he walks, his curly ponytail flopping up and down with each step.
That’s interesting, Alice thinks. Men only come into the store when they’re with their girlfriends or mistresses, helping them pick out the most revealing items. Maybe this man wants to be a pretty drag queen.
“May I help you sir?” Alice flashes her charming smile.
“Oh no, I am just looking,” he says, not paying attention to her. He hums to himself, loud enough for the whole store to hear.
Rolling her eyes, Alice returns to the register.
“Why are you here?” Margery asks, nudging her head towards the man. Margery is such a pain. She likes to boss people around and tell them she’s a size 4 when everyone really knows she’s at least a size 6. Alice knows the truth, and she begrudges Margery and her always smiling round face. At her size, she shouldn’t be the manager of a lingerie store.
Alice is a size 8 herself, but very curvy for a 5’ woman. Her body jiggles whenever she takes a step, but it’s mostly in her boobs and only a little in her stomach, and besides, Alice knows that’s what men like. They like her thin blonde hair and her thick dumbbell figure. Margery though, all her weight is in her ass and her flabby arms. Margery probably got promoted by being a slutty slut slut. It doesn’t matter that Margery has worked at the shop longer, Alice is older and she knows she deserves it more.
“He doesn’t want help.” Alice hums—it’s catchy.
“This is why you’ve never gotten a promotion. Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Margery walks up to the man. He looks scared, and after a few seconds of talking he leaves.
“What did you say to him?” Alice asks.
“Just get back to work,” Margery says.
10 a.m.
“Try this, it will make you look busty and fabulous.” Alice hands a blonde woman with wide shoulders a bustier. Like anything could look flattering on this woman, Alice thinks.
Out of the corner of her eye she sees the man from earlier enter the store. He’s chewing gum, still humming. Hands in his pockets, his ponytail bobs up and down as he walks once more around the store and then leaves. I wonder why he keeps coming back. Blood creeps up Alice’s neck and cheeks. Maybe he wants to see me.
“I think I need a larger size,” the blonde woman says from her dressing room.
“What? Oh, right, no problem.” Sometimes Alice hates herself, having to spend her days dressing fat women. She gets back to work.
11 a.m.
Alice sits outside the store, smoking. It’s only been two hours, but it feels like she’s been here all day already. She inhales, savoring the smoke, then coughs when she sees the man again.
He walks by the store, makes eye contact with Alice, and then starts to walk away.
“Hey!” Alice says.
Eyes forward, he pretends not to hear and half jogs, half skips away.
Disappointed, Alice shakes her head and goes back into the shop.
12 p.m.
The food court is not very busy. No surprise, since it’s a Tuesday. Alice goes to her favorite greasy Asian restaurant, orders her orange chicken and sits by herself in the middle of the room.
The man sits next to her. He holds a large ice cream cone with three scoops.
Alice continues to eat, pretending not to notice. He licks his ice cream, still humming. Alice can’t take it anymore.
“Who are you?”
He turns, a wide smile on his face. “Oh, hello. My name is Thomas. I am from Redondo Beach,” he says, emphasizing each syllable.
Alice snorts into her soda. “Hi Thomas from Redondo Beach. I’m Alice.”
“Very nice to meet you.” He continues to lick his ice cream, mechanically, his tongue lapping at the frozen treat once per second.
Alice shivers, though it’s not cold. She turns to observe Thomas some more. He has dark bushy eyebrows that accentuate his bright blue eyes. He seems strange, but he’s kind of cute, in an I-need-a-boyfriend kind of way.
Her eyes meet his. “So what’s your story? Why are you hanging out at a mall all day?”
He licks his ice cream. “I am waiting for a friend.”
Alice’s cell phone starts vibrating. “Shit,” Alice says. “Hey, I have to get back to work. You should swing by, maybe even buy something.”
Thomas nods, licking the drops of ice cream that have spilled onto his cone.
1 p.m.
Alice rubs her shoulders. How can it only be halfway through the day? She sighs, hearing the seconds tick away in her head.
A movement outside the store catches her attention. It’s Thomas, jogging back and forth in front of the window display. He’s smiling as his ponytail bounces. Alice waves to him, but he doesn’t acknowledge her.
Margery sees him as well. “What the hell is that guy up to? Do I need to call the cops?”
Alice chuckles—stupid Margery. “Relax, it’s fine.” Is he trying to get my attention? Alice grins.
2 p.m.
Thomas comes in the store again. This time he approaches Alice.
He stands in front of her—he’s a head taller—and looks down. “Hello Alice.” He smiles.
Alice feels a flutter in her chest. He has a nice smile. “How can I help you?”
“I am just browsing.”
The fluttering stops. Weirdo, Alice thinks. “OK, anything specific?”
“No, I just need some ideas.” His eyes sweep the store. “May I take a look at your tights?”
“Sure, follow me.”
Margery comes out from the back room. Thomas steps backward. “I will be back later.” He pivots and leaves the store.
3 p.m.
Alice takes another smoke break. The day drags on. She looks ahead of her, almost expecting to see Thomas.
Her back against a wall, Alice blows smoke rings. Admiring her work, she stretches her arm out, trying to catch a smoke bracelet on her wrist.” After failing two or three times, she drops the cigarette on the ground and smashes it with her foot. I wonder where Thomas is, she thinks as she heads back into the store.
4 p.m.
Thomas comes back. Alice smiles, feeling special. Margery is gone on her break. Maybe she will offer to try something on for him, she thinks. She feels wet at the thought.
“Thomas, I’m glad you came back.”
“Thank you.” He stops and sways so his ponytail moves left to right. “Me too.” He looks around, and then lowers his voice. “I do not like that other woman. She scares me.”
Alice chuckles, taking Thomas’ hand. “I have something to show you.” On the way to the dressing room, Alice pulls a satin slip off the rack and dangles it in front of him. “Come in,” she says, closing the door behind them.
Thomas giggles. Fifteen minutes later he leaves, still giggling.
4:45 p.m.
Alice lets out a contented sigh. Only 15 minutes until she can leave. Her feet ache and her head hurts from spending the day in fluorescent lighting.
She closes her eyes. Maybe I’ll ask Thomas if he wants to hang out. He said he’d come back. We could go to my place, drink some beers…
“Alice, I need you to finish folding the underwear on this table.” Margery taps her fingernails on the register counter, interrupting Alice’s daydream.
“All right, all right, it’ll get done. Don’t worry.” Alice scowls. I should have your job.
5 p.m.
Time to go home. Alice, angry now, looks out the front door for Thomas—it’s time to leave. She picks up her purse and starts to walk out, but then she sees him.
“You came back.” She smirks, her heart fluttering.
He nods. “Yes.” A girl with long black hair and a bubble butt walks towards them. Thomas turns his head, his eyes looking the girl up and down.
“Hi Thomas,” the girl says.
“Hi Tracy,” he says.
Rage flushes Alice’s cheeks. How could she be so stupid?
“Alice,” he continues. “This is my fr—”
“Great. Goodbye Thomas.” Alice storms off. She’s way too fat for him.