Shirt Sex?

While visiting New York last week, I had the chance to do a little shopping. Since I was staying in Times Square and it was pouring down rain, I decided to hit the Saks Fifth Avenue across the street from Rockefeller Center (right down the street). Saks is one of my favorite stores. My ex, Steven, used to work at the one in Dallas and started me on a fairly serious addiction of expensive dress shirts and ties. And belts. And leather jackets. And jeans. Thank god the Saks in KC only sells women's clothes.

In our nearly five years together, Steven worked exclusively in retail. I know first-hand how young cute guys can swoon over their customers to increase their commissions. I've seen it work with my own eyes. In fact, I guess you could say I've profited from it. So as I stepped off the elevator on the Men's floor at Saks, I wasn't particularly shocked to be attacked approached by a very eager and very cute salesperson. He was hispanic, fairly short and had great teeth. Now generally, I say "just browsing" until I can make sure I'm being helped by the cutest sales guy, but in this case I was in a hurry, so he'd just scored himself a customer.

Together, we spent about 30 minutes walking around the store picking out various shirts that would go with jeans and a nice jacket. It didn't take us long to establish the other was favorably inclined towards the male persuasion, and once we did, the games began. I think I actually blushed a couple of times. Hell, I picked out an extra four or five shirts to try on that I didn't even like.

Deep down, I figured this was just part of the standard sales "dance" that keeps older guys like me buying $200 shirts from 23 year olds. But as I was trying them on, I began to realize that he was slightly more serious about his interest in me than a sales associate should be. He insisted on seeing every shirt, and touched my shoulders too much. On one, he unbuttoned the top button to spread my collar a bit more. At that moment, his arms were almost around me and his face was close enough to feel the heat from his body. It was right at that instant I knew that one of two things could happen: I could resist his advances and make it to dinner on time, or I could shut that door and have a really good story to write about in my blog.

Boy, I looked great in that shirt that night.