...going out in public thusly dressed*-- what was I thinking???
I rather slinked into Wal-Mart, blushing furiously as I went. Everyone who saw me must have known what I was thinking. My eyes met another's, and I quickly looked away, my blush deepening.
Naughty in public. I can does it.
Something electric coursed through me, my skin felt on fire-- so this is what it feels like, doing this. I felt so exposed. I looked over my shoulder, careful not to be followed. If I needed to cross a main aisle, I stuck my head out and looked both ways before crossing, and that very quickly. I grabbed a few things, tossing them carelessly into cart, and then the big reveal, making my way up to the hordes massed around the 3 working registers, stark standouts from the 40 or so ghostly registers standing lonely vigil like some subterranean terra cotta army which means to leap to life again one day. Christmas season, perhaps...
I carefully look around and notice no one staring-- wait! is that a camera phone? Oh noes! I want to get away with it, and I'm horrified of appearing here. Yes. I'm Phlegmfatale, and I am a people of Wal-Mart. I can quit any time I want to. It's not a habit. I know that lots of people must have been relieved to see me walk out the door, but I know that secretly, they long for my return. And just when they think I'm gone for good, I'll come back and wearing something again which will make me blush to consider.
*Black pants, black top, denim jacket-- all inoffensive enough, but paired with my gold smurf shoes and the fluffy day-glo orange house sock-booties, well, how horridly, uh, horrid.