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Charlotte’s First Time Out
Julie Bracken posted a photo:
Charlotte,
(who is better known as Chuck)
planned for weeks
for the weekend away from home,
buying pantyhose, make-up, heels
and underthings,
a pretty dress
fancy rings
and hair that fell
like the golden fringe
on a cheerleader’s miniskirt,
and hiding it all
in a box in the garage
behind old paint cans
in a corner
where his wife never goes,
good camouflage
slipping out there the night before
to pack it in the trunk of the car
for this was to be
his first
time out.
He told her he was going
to a “regional meeting,”
a training session,
a seminar,
a very boring kind of thing,
from which he would return
on Sunday.
The drive was long
four hours,
(plus one ten-minute pit stop
to relieve himself and buy 12 cans of Bud…for you)
but necessary to be far enough away
so no one there would know him;
no chance of being recognized
(“Isn’t that Chuck over there?
in the sequined mini-dress?
Yeah
You remember Chuck.
Wasn’t he a running back, back in high school
for the Querro Gobblers?”)
Checked in as someone else
and trucked his stuff to the motel room
his heart beating hard
like the big bass drum
at half-time
and immediately got down to business.
Shaving carefully first
and then the make-up
(according to instructions he found on the Internet.)
Carefully applying layer after layer
of this and that
and last of all
the wig,
preening in the mirror
a pom-pom girl at last
preparing for her date
with destiny.
The clothing was a cinch.
He’d done it all, many times before
stealing time
when his wife was not around.
(She might have understood, he thought,
but then again
might not.
So why take the chance?)
The bra,
the slip,
and then the clothes;
the dress
high heels,
and pantyhose
and there she was
so free at last
so free at last
feeling so flighty
and free at last.
Crossing to the door she saw
the light of twilight
through the motel window.
Not time, just yet, she thought,
Much safer in the evening light,
and turned the TV on.
ESPN
included in the price. How nice.
And just in time to see
the Bears kick off.
How nice.
And what a game it was.
Dear Charlotte didn’t see the time slip by
She chewed her lipstick off at third and one.
And scratched her nails to shreds
at fourth and goal.
At half time she took off her wig
and pantyhose
and popped the top
on one more bud for you.
Who knows
what might have been
if Charlotte had not fumbled on that night.
You see,
the game plan doesn’t always go as planned,
and armchair quarterbacks in heels
may fill the stands
But though they may not play
the odds are high
they’ll dress out on another day.
~Bobbi Williams
Makeup and styling by the talented Kelayla of www.transvista.co.uk/
DSC09945
9 Feb 18
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