Speaking Of People Watching ……..

Okay boys and girls I have a little adventure to tell you about. Very recently I found myself at the mall with my wife, my birthday present to her was not actually a present, it was a trip to her favorite stores to pick out clothes she has wanted. The longer we are married the harder it is to get gifts for special occasions. Some of y’all might actually feel the same way, plus giving someone a gift blindly is very hit or miss, what they liked yesterday may have very well changed overnight. So, I have a bad habit, I don’t buy gifts, we go places or do something or in this case we made a special trip to the mall. In general, my wife was a little confused, for the first time I wasn’t clear about the budget, sure I had one in mind since going over the budget would have cut into the bill paying. Nevertheless, I told her that she had free reign, she knows the bank account and so forth and I knew she would “shop responsibly” in the end. Plus, as a direct bonus to me, I was there to help pick out new summer attire, that is if she actually buys anything. Usually, whether for work or for street clothes, I always get to go because she wants my “opinion”. Oh well, its just the way it is.

The first place she goes into is Victoria’s Secret, a store in my opinion which has gone seriously down hill because everything is geared toward the “teen” and everything has become tame and lame. I understand business, but I remember the Victoria’s Secret from back in the day when I was dating my ex, and it rivaled Fredrick’s of Hollywood at the time. So, the moral of the story is that if you want “trashy” lingerie you need to shop at Zone D Exotica or buy it online. How can a person buy lingerie, in general, online? Anyhow, we go in because she “needs” (wants) new bras and Victoria’s secret has convinced her over the years that she can only wear their brand bras because of her figure. At least that is the line I’ve heard from them and my wife repeat. Ok, she’s 5’2″, about 115#, where’s a size 2, and sports 36DDDs. I joked with her the other day because she was feeling her age, and in a complimentary fashion I mentioned that I haven’t noticed her age because the boobs are still rockin’ all on their own. She tells me one day they won’t be that way, yea, but that day is not today! In the store she picks out a few sets of varying colors, I know this because she tells me as we go along. I don’t personally care what they look like, however I don’t care for the padded ones since she doesn’t need help squishing the boobs out. I can always convince the employees that I need to be in the fitting room with her because she cant come out to show me and model the lingerie. In 17 years I have been told no only once, and that just turned into selfie after selfie after selfie. Other husbands sit outside, looking very uncomfortable sitting in the pink and white striped boudoir chair, holding her purse, and keeping the small children in line. So, we found one bra and panty set that she was happy with, she tried on 14 sets and some more singles. I’m not complaining, I enjoy the show, in fact I love the show, I was just saying. We wait in line, pay the $72.89, and we exit happily.

She wanted some new jean shorts, tank tops, and a new bikini. I don’t know that all of those things can be purchased in one store, but we were going to give it a shot. She likes Hollister so we started there, not my favorite store, clothes are more for the teen with an assload of daddy’s money. But, she likes their jeans and jean shorts. Being familiar with this store as she comes here allot, I know that when its time to try on everything that is there barely enough room for one person, so I know I will be riding the imitation plastic leather couch, holding her purse and the remainder of the clothes. How do you try on clothes in a 2’x2′ closet anyway? She was put in the room right by the end of the couch, I could touch the door handle I was so close. One thing I hate about this store is the over abuse of perfumes and colognes people wear in a confined space. Makes my eyes water, not good when I wear contacts. Reminds me of the VIP rooms at a strip club, mixed perfumes, mixed sweat in the chairs, spilled alcohol on the floor, it generally has such a musk that it reminds me of a funeral parlor where all of the older ladies feel they must bath in their preferred scent as if to compete with all of the others. I like a lite pleasant smell, one you don’t notice until you are close to the nape of the neck, y’all know what I’m talking about. Then, BOOM, she walks out in a pair of these jean shorts that are very tight, very short, yet still tasteful enough because her vagina isn’t eating them and spilling out the leg holes. Impressive! My wife does not get into the whole “if it zips it fits” craze. She prefers comfortably snug. She tries on a few more, same style, different colors, they all look fine enough to me, but that’s not the answer we are looking for and I know it, so I go for the white pair and the blue jean pair, both show off her tanned legs nicely. Holy fuck! Two pair of shorts were $93.89 and we still weren’t done, off to the Guess store, a personal favorite of mine.

The Guess store was an utter clusterfuck with the summer sale going on, shit everywhere it wasn’t supposed to be, employees talking and texting instead of helping people out. Luckily for us, the bathing suit section hadn’t been raped and ransacked yet, well not real bad in my opinion. She picks out three that she likes and one I was fond of because it was different. She hates all of them after trying them on, looking to old ladyish for her taste. At this point in time she talks me into driving to Galveston, about a 50 minute drive for us, to go suit shopping, she wants to go back to a place she bought hers for our trip to Florida a few years back. Sure, why not, I was done with the mall anyway. We load up her bags in the trunk of the Mustang and head to the Strand, a section of Galveston that has existed since the 1800s, now its mostly shops, bars, and restaurants. While driving through Houston in average Houston traffic, meaning it was steady and thick but moving at about 75mph, my wife slips off the jeans she is wearing, surprise for me, and slips on her new white shorts after cutting the tags off. I didn’t even see her bring them into the car. Ever want to make the women in the car next to you on the passenger side blush? Have your wife changing in the car doing 80 mph passing an SUV with the woman and her boys in the back seat gawking. We arrived safely to Galveston, park, pay, and off we are walking.

She spots a few tanks in the window of the surf shop we were walking by and pulls me inside to go check them out. She was looking for the kind one wears sans bra, its a special kind from what she tells me, got a liner in it so the person wearing it isn’t pointing at everyone looking like she is smuggling raisins. I’m good either way. This is a giant store, there are racks after racks after rack of bathing suits, even the female employees were wearing tiny little bikinis. I like this place already. It was amazing to watch the guys in the store that were there with their wives, girlfriends, friends, or significant others. While watching them watching the tiny bikini clad girls walk around, bending over with straight legs, and stretching to the point that the material of their tops was at the point of failing, which would be catastrophic, boobs everywhere if it happens., I noticed that they also were selling margaritas and daiquiris, bonus. Cheap as well, I don’t prefer frozen margaritas but two giant one’s served in a souvenir style cup with a really crazy straw was only eight bucks. I hand my wife hers and away we go to start the hunt. She picked out one style she liked, only one suit too, and without showing it to me on the hanger she disappears into the changing room. I meandered over, giving her time to wiggle out of her closes and wiggle back into the suit she is trying on. She pulls the curtain back far enough for me to tie the strings on the back for her. She closes the curtain, and we know why, she needs the time to “adjust” everything so there is nothing hanging out that shouldn’t be. The curtain rips open! There she stands, my tanned wife in a white bikini, she is looking slick, she spins in the mirrors outside the changing room, and I guess she decides she is not liking it after all. I’m instructed to stand there and guard her “stuff” while she gets another. Remember I was talking about the guys in the store, well, they aren’t shy about staring, not even a little subtle, but then again, I was pleasantly watching her walk away as well. I see an employee, half her age, helping her out, pointing around and so forth, and then my wife returns. I was told she didn’t care for the first one, the bottoms felt like they were sliding inside her and she feared a very revealing cameltoe. So, she explained she was looking for “cunt huggers” not “cunt eaters” like the one she just tried on. She gets a dirty potty mouth at all the appropriate times, but I saw her point, trust me. She finds one that makes her happy, I never got to see it either, I was told it will be a surprise. While doing a secret check out, hiding it all from me, the same employee who was helping her began talking with my wife again. Apparently she is the manager of the store and thinks my wife has some talents that she would like to employ. Yes, she offered her a job on the weekends. The pay wasn’t bad, $20 an hour plus tips, part time, no benefits, but 80% of clothing in the store as long as she was an employee. Also, she would be able to use my veteran’s discount for an additional 10% off. My wife is actually considering it, she thinks it will be fun, she likes the uniform, and she thinks she would be a help to the older crowd who are a bit shyer in their needs. She has to call her by this Friday afternoon if she wants to give it a shot this weekend.

So now we walk around some more, stopping in at many more island shops, drinking many more margaritas, and finally we got back in the car, not to go home, but to head to the seawall to park so we could go walk the beach for a while. There was a beautiful sunset, we watched the sun slowly but surely descend into the depths of the horizon. Feeling hungry we walked over to a seafood place, I cant remember the name tho for some reason, but we went in, it was very laid back, had classic rock playing relatively load, but it was the coziness of it that made it a cool environment. We ordered, we ate, we talked, talked allot about this summer and what we wanted to do, we are going to San Antonio for the 4th of July weekend, which I already knew, since it is going to be my father’s day present from the kids. To sum it all up, it was nice to go out alone with my wife, something that is very rare anymore, but this is something we both committed to change starting right then. Fine with me, that’s why I married her, to spend time with her, to be able to do things together. There are many more reasons of course, but we wanted a life together to do things together. Also, we discussed the upcoming concerts for the rest of the year, told me to pick three or four so we could go. Has my wife received a headwound? She is volunteering to see rock concerts? Nice. I mentioned our vacation to Florida two years ago, I was doing something with the kids and I get a text from my wife with this picture attached, asking me if I would join her on the beach for a walk. What do y’all think my answer was?


Shattered Dreams

This entry is provided by KL who lives in Bunnell Florida. He states he is in his mid 30s and travels most of the state of Florida for his employment. He didn’t state what he does for a living except that it keeps him gone 6 days a week. Since he travels so much it has left him little time for romance and his mother and friends keep telling him to settle down so he doesn’t die a lonely old man. He started to fulfill what he thought was a dream by getting on Christian Mingle. He went thru the normal steps and follow ups and found his perfect match. Now that the minor background has been defined I leave the rest for KL to tell. Hold on, this one has a few twists and bumps in the road.

About a year ago is when this all occurred for me. I had grown tired of being taunted and teased all the time by friends and family that I would never find love and that I would never get married. It all sat really hard with me because I’m now 36 and have no life other that travel and work. I had become discouraged with Facebook because it didn’t seem like any of the singles my age were interested in anything except extra-marital affairs and I didn’t want to get mixed up in that at all. With the advice of my mother I created an account on Christian Mingle and loaded up my profile. In the beginning my inbox stayed empty, then I would get the empty conversations, and after about a year I began corresponding with a woman my age named Ashley. We seemed to both have quite a bit in common and she says she wouldn’t mind my traveling. We didn’t live too terribly far apart, with her north of Orlando and myself in Bunnell.

After the usual talking on-line through the site we saw trust within one another and exchanged cell phone numbers so we could talk while I was on the road. After about a month of texting and talking she started sending me pictures of herself. They started off with her being fully clothed, then in bikinis, then erotic lingerie, and finally just her in her birthday suit. I have to admit, she was stunning to look at and I could not wait to meet her in person. I sent her only one picture of myself compared to like 60 she sent to me. Mine was simple, just me fishing from the beach one summer. She really had my attention. Eventually we made arrangements to meet in a central location to both of us and at a place that was neutral for both of us as well. She knew allot about Daytona Beach and started listing out hundreds of places we could meet. Finally we settled with meeting at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. restaurant right on Daytona Beach. The weekend was finally here and I packed a small bag with a change of clothes so I was sure to have my bathing suit just in case we decided to actually go down to the water.

On my drive down to Daytona I go a call from Ashley informing me she was already there and since she got there so early she decided to get a room at a local motel off the beaten path by the beach. I agreed to meet her there as we both agreed that it might be best to meet for the first time in a not so public forum. She texted me the address and I found myself heading her way. She was definitely right, the motel was off the beaten path a bit and kind of secluded from the view of the street. My anticipation was growing by the moment and I was getting really anxious to get to meet her. When I pulled up I found my way to park in front of the room number she had given me. Being polite, I called her while sitting in my car to announce I was here and coming to the room. She told me it was perfect timing and to come on in because the door was open.

I was raised better than to just barge into someone’s room, so I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer it. The door slowly opened reveling Ashley standing there without a stitch of clothing on her wet, nude body. She apologized for being wet and naked and told me that she had just got out of the shower and heard the knock on the door. I remember thinking that this was odd since I just called her a few minutes ago, but oh well, I’m here now. She grabbed me by my hand, leading me into the hotel, and then she shut the door. That was the last thing I saw, the light just before the door completely closed. I woke up around 7 hours later. I realized at this point that the back of my head was bleeding pretty good. When I got up off of the floor to head to the bathroom to get a towel I realized I was completely naked and completely alone as well. After making my way to the bathroom I looked in the mirror to see I had a black eye and was missing a tooth. Further examination of my body would reveal that I had bruises and small cuts everywhere. Further observations would reveal that all my clothes, my wallet, my cell phone, my keys, and my car were all missing.

I got on the motel phone and called the Daytona Police Department to report the robbery and assault. A male and female officer arrived after about 15 minutes to take me report. I had found a robe tucked in on the top shelf of the closet so I felt a little better. I let them in, the female officer immediately began talking with me writing everything down while the male officer looked around the room and asked neighboring rooms if the heard or saw anything. Then the kicker. I was informed this motel was notorious for being used in prostitution scams and robberies. Shortly after I was read my rights and was told I was being arrested for solicitation of a prostitute. With no identification I was treated like an actual criminal. I was loaded into the car and drove to the police station where I was duly processed in accordance with the law. With my one call I contacted my mother and explained what happened. She said she will call the insurance about the car and bring me my birth certificate to prove my identity. But, she can’t come until the following morning because she doesn’t drive after dark.

So there it is, I spent the night in jail because I got robbed and beaten. I understand the police department’s point of view but what about what really happened, does that even matter. The answer is no actually. After my release I got busy changing locks on my house, luckily they never came here and robbed me here. I called to cancel credit cards and order replacements, as well as getting charges stopped on my bank account. They managed to remove $4679.92 from my bank account as well as spending another $2109.89 at a variety of places, all in a matter of under 24 hours. When I go to Christian Mingle to retrieve what information I saved about Ashley her entire profile was gone, of course. My car was found a few weeks later torched and burnt to the ground in Las Vegas Nevada. After my insurance claim went through I got another car. Since all of this happened most of the money I lost was “refunded” to my new bank account. To my knowledge this is still under investigation because they have never been able to identify who actually did this to me. I don’t personally see it being solved. She is long gone and I helped her get long gone. On a personal note, I have given up on internet dating sites. I will just need to find the right woman for me some other way. I have learned my lesson and wanted to share with people so they don’t go down the same lonely road that only leads to despair and agony.

Note: The images used in this story were provided by me. I found them on the internet via a quick Google Images search in a public domain.