Ad Nauseam - By C. W. LaSart Page 0,3
made him almost dizzy with her constant chatter, but he liked it. She never seemed self-conscious. He followed her out into the humid afternoon, the bell over the door sounding as they left.
Charlene looked the same as always. Beautiful. She kept her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wore pink eye shadow and lip gloss that matched her uniform. Her skirt was short and tight, giving Jimmy a glimpse of long, tan legs that made him feel slightly lightheaded. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the brick wall, dragging deeply and squinting across the street at their reflections in the shop windows. As an afterthought, she held the pack of smokes towards him.
“Want one?”
“No, thank you.” He almost added Mama wouldn’t like that, but had enough sense to realize this wasn’t the sort of thing a grown man should say. Then he glanced at her legs and the roaring blush was back.
“So anyway, I was thinking,” Charlene looked away as she spoke, paying too much attention to her cigarette. “There’s this picnic on Sunday after service, and I was thinking about going. But with me being divorced for so long and never showing up with a date to anything . . . I know those old women always have their tongues wagging and they have to be saying I’m some sort of lesbian or something.”
He knew what a lesbian was, but he was unsure about the mechanics of such a relationship, so he nodded in a way he hoped looked knowing, saying nothing. Charlene stared at him for a minute, her eyebrows raised in expectation, before she finally spoke again, huffing in exasperation.
“I was wondering if you would like to go with me.”
“Go with, um, you?” Jimmy felt dizzy. Was she asking him out? “Like a date?”
“Yeah. Sure. A date.” Charlene looked doubtful now and Jimmy felt that familiar panic well up inside him. She might be changing her mind.
“Yes! Sure I would!” Jimmy beamed but she looked unsure, so he toned it down a notch, hoping he appeared less eager. “I mean, yeah. I would go with you.”
Charlene smiled then, her teeth uneven and yellowed from nicotine, but still the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. She took out her order book and scratched something on it with her pen, before ripping the sheet off and handing it to him.
“Here’s my number, Hon. Call me tomorrow night. We’ll figure it out.” She crushed the cigarette under her shoe then, with a wink, turned on her heel and left Jimmy to watch her hips swing as she walked back through the door.
He stood there for a moment dumbfounded. He had a date! It was too much for him to process. Instead, he tried to remember if he had paid Sam for his sandwich or not. Checking the remaining cash in his pocket, Jimmy got into the truck and headed for the liquor store across town.
***
Jimmy barely heard the liquor store’s little bell above the door. He walked to the back of the store and opened the cooler, locating his favorite brand of beer. There was a sale on cases, so he grabbed one instead of the usual twelve-pack. He heard Mama’s voice sound off in the back of his head, saying something about an alcoholic, but he ignored her. He was too happy about his date. Mama would have plenty to say about that too.
On the way to the counter, Jimmy’s eyes fell on the magazine rack in the corner and he stopped. Unlike the racks in other stores, the front was higher so you couldn’t see the covers, only the very top where the name was. The beer wasn’t the only change in the house since Mama had died. He didn’t have very many of these magazines, but had collected a few.
He looked at the rack longingly, trying to decide if the embarrassment of purchasing them would be worth the excitement of having some new material for his fantasies. He decided he wanted them and grabbed two without even looking to see what they were.
At the register, a kid who looked barely old enough to drink rang up the case of beer, and then stopped with his hand on the nudie mags. He looked around suspiciously, leaning over the counter until he was a little too close for Jimmy’s comfort. Then he spoke in a hushed and secretive voice.
“You don’t want these, man.”
Jimmy was flooded with embarrassment, wishing he hadn’t grabbed the books at all.