Growing into the Job, Post 533: Retail Therapy, p7

The four of us sat on the outer concourse in the warm, humming heart of the Vendare Center, parked at one of the pastel diner tables outside a newly opened BOOMfood franchise here. The smoothie place was similar to the standalone I’d been to before with the girls, on one of my first “dates” with Melissa - the one owned by the mother of Bessie, one of our employees. This shop was also styled like some idealized 1950’s soda fountain - but built for a new world, not greasers and bobby-socks. Waitresses swished past in baby-blue serving uniforms and white apron smocks, their heels clicking across the tile floors. The retro outfits seemed built to exaggerate their hips and put their bustlines proudly on display. Inside it was loud and bright, designed to be seen and heard by an almost exclusively female clientele. But we were seated outside, on the concourse. Still, I was surrounded by women. 

Each of the girls - Lakshmi, Aubrey and Josie - clutched an enormous, blush-pink smoothie in a BOOMfood pint cup. They’d all ordered the “MILFshake” from the menu: strawberry flavored but rich with wild fennel, the licoricey sweet tang of shatavari root and the musky, unfamiliar bouquet of whatever else was in there. The scent alone had weight; if there was a smell for pulchritude, something crafted with calories, fat and protein to make a woman more womanly, a mother more motherly, it was this: heavy, floral, faintly creamy, and dizzyingly fertile.

“These are sooooo good,” Josie groaned, already half-done with hers. 

Aubrey nodded, both she and Lakshmi sucking on their straws as well. “Yeah is it weird we all ordered the same thing?”

I, meanwhile, sipped at my water through a red-and-white paper straw from a cheap paper cup. That had taken some arguing. The girls had suggested the “Lil’ Chugger” from the male menu (god knows what was in it), but I’d insisted - maybe even pleaded -  on just the water. My last BOOMfood visit, with Melissa and the girls, had ended in a bit of a situation. One off-menu sip of the veggie-shot thing they called “Boner Alert”, and I’d spent the better part of the evening priapic. Come to find out they lace the thing with a secret ingredient - high dose sildenafil. So, I didn’t trust anything here, and made my case for water, which tasted - yuck - somehow stale.

Aubrey had kindly wiped the lipstick off my face as soon as we exited the salon earlier, crouched down into me, tutting like a mother hen and using kleenex, spit and a fingertip. I still wasn’t sure how I’d let them paint my lips like that and decorate my cheeks with lipstick kisses planted on like claims of territory. But pretty girls tended to get their way with me, and something in their energy today was extra hard to resist.  And now, sitting here, they were buzzing even more; with a new ‘MILFshake’ glow they hummed with added vitality and purpose. As I sat between them here at the table, the contrast felt ridiculous: they were growing, they were burgeoning, they were blossoming. I, in their shadow, was not. Was it evident to everyone here, what a shrunken little accessory I was to these girls? 

The concourse was packed, and though people-watching was inevitable from our sidewalk seat, I noticed how we were drawing more stares than anyone else. Josie’s legs, crossed elegantly, were folded just so to show off their shape. Lakshmi, turned slightly in her seat, had positioned herself so the swell of her hips and backside nearly swallowed the metal chair and was ripe for viewing from passersby. Even Aubrey had an unmistakable magnetism now, certainly helped along by the dramatic swell of her bust. And all three girls were fresh from their glow-up at the salon. Still, I soon learned that not all of the attention was on them.

“You know they were looking at you, those ladies that just went by, right?” Josie said, tilting her drink in the direction of a trio of forty-somethings drifting by with Hera’s shopping bags. Her voice was dry, but the smirk beneath it made her meaning plain.

“M-me?” I squeaked, glancing behind me. The women were still throwing glances back - equal parts amused, curious, and predatory.

“For sure,” Lakshmi confirmed, leaning her cheek into one hand. “You are a very attractive little man.”

“Yeah, most of these women are staring at you,” Aubrey added. She sounded almost reverent, like she was observing some phenomenon under a microscope. “You’re so perfect and small. You’re rare. Like…an exotic breed.”

“Or a collectible, like a doll.” Josie slurped her shake and gave me a wink. “We should get a little glass case for you, Dr. Vulni. Like, put you up on a shelf. Keep you safe.”

My ears went hot. I took another sip of water, wishing I could disappear into the cup. Are those days so far away? I thought ruefully.

The girls nursed the frothy sips of their MILFshakes. Josie still had one leg casually crossed over the other, her glossy, soft, post-salon waves bouncing as she chuckled at something Lakshmi said. Aubrey leaned in quietly to adjust the collar of my new shirt - the one they’d picked out and bought for me. On her hands lingered a subtle perfume from some lotion from the salon, a soft, creamy scent of coconut and hibiscus.

I tried to keep my gaze straight ahead, but couldn’t help watching the three girls glow in the afternoon light that filtered through the vast skylights above. They were gorgeous to begin with, had just been to the salon for a glow-up, and now some BOOMfood-driven makeover was somehow turning up their wattage even more. Maybe I was the half-famous Dr. Vulni, but the girls got their looks, too. People were definitely stealing glances. Some more than glances.

I saw them coming before they reached us - two men, maybe late twenties, both tall-ish, alone - alone as in no women with them. Also, no shopping bags, just two guys who seemed out of place. Wasn’t there some rule? That men weren’t allowed in without a female companion? Maybe they’d wandered off, away?

Anyway, as they passed our table, one of them - an Asian guy, long-haired, a backwards cap tucked down - slowed his pace, his eyes glued to Aubrey’s chest. He elbowed his friend and muttered low as they passed, just loud enough for me to hear:

“Dude. Did you see those massive knockers?”

Aubrey had been giggling over something with Lakshmi and I don’t think either one of them heard him, but I felt Josie shift in her chair before I even processed the asshole’s words. She turned around, one hand still gripping her shake, and barked over her shoulder:

“Wanna say that again, sunshine?” she called, “What you just said about my friend’s breasts?”

The guys flinched - like schoolboys caught mouthing off in front of the principal. They kept walking, a little faster now, heads ducked.

The air changed. Conversations nearby stilled. A few women, strangers, turned to look. One just in front of the guys stopped, turned, and folded her arms as if daring the men to pass her too closely. They slunk around her. Another, holding a shopping bag and a child’s hand, pulled her daughter protectively to the side and gave the men a long, pointed glare.

No one yelled. No one chased. But the message was loud, everywhere:

This space is not yours.

The men peeled off toward a side corridor and disappeared.

I sat there, blinking. The moment passed quickly, the chatter resumed, but a chill ran under my skin - not fear, exactly, but something adjacent. What would have happened if all these women suddenly decided to act, make those creeps pay for what they said? There was a kind of power here I didn’t fully understand. Not loud, not violent. Just… collective. Subtle and total, and all around me. 

Then, maybe ten seconds later, three female security guards had materialized out of the crowd and were headed down the same hallway where the assholes had fled. 

Aubrey, brow knitted, looked to Josie. “What just happened?”

Josie described the moment, the comments the ‘males’ had made; Aubrey brought her hand to her chest, blushing with the realization that she’d been the one commanding the admiration. She was normally a modest girl, bordering on shy, but I swear I saw an electric tingle run through her. Still, though, she knew the guys were tools. 

“Men,” Lakshmi muttered, rolling her eyes. “When are they going to learn?”

“They won’t,” said Josie, sipping at her smoothie, “Not until they have to.”

“Or they’re made to,” followed Aubrey, with a chill to her normally unassuming voice I hadn’t heard before. A chill similar to the one that just went down my spine.

Josie glanced at each of us with a grin that was more sly than anything. “Give it a few more months. Once the new administration’s in, my vote is six weeks before public behavior like that gets officially punished. My mom works with some of the candidates that won, and I know there are new laws getting written up already. 

“Like…what kind of punishment?” I asked, “A citation? Like, a fine for being rude?”

Josie snorted.

“I hope worse than that,” Lakshmi offered.

“Honestly,” Aubrey added, tilting her head toward me, looking at me and reading my face for reaction, “won’t it be so much better when women are in charge, and enforcing things?”

I swallowed, nodded faintly. But the truth was I wasn’t sure what I felt - just that the old rules didn’t seem to apply anymore, and obviously new ones were being written.

Aubrey rested her palm gently on my small back, her long fingers moving in slow, soothing circles - like one might comfort a nervous child. “Hey,” she said softly, “you’re a good guy. You don’t have to worry about any of that. If things really do keep changing - in the world, and with you - you’ll be fine. You know how to behave. And you’ve got Melissa. And us.”

Her voice was calm, confident. The kind of confidence that doesn’t leave room for argument. I nodded automatically, trying not to read too much into what she was implying.

“You’ll be good for us, right?” Aubrey asked me. 

Of course, without thinking, I nodded again.

Josie let out a small, amused breath. “Wow. Listen to you. Mama Aubrey is in the house.”

Aubrey blushed, but kept gently rubbing my back. 

Lakshmi had laughed, but then her smile softened. “Honestly? I am feeling it too. I do not know what it is, but… there is a pull, you know, today?“ Her eyes, big and brown, went to me for a moment, and then back to her friend. “Like I just want to take care of him. I feel very…motherly.”

urk. Fuck, that gave me a boner. Well, that, and Aubrey’s hand on my back, and the girls’ new scents and their makeup and…ugh. What the hell is wrong with me?? And…they’re talking about me again. Do they know I’m right here?

“Maybe it’s the MILFshakes, making us feel this way,” Josie suggested, turning her cup in her hand. “I swear, I can feel something kicking in.”

“It’s not just the shakes,” Aubrey piped in, quietly, “I felt it as soon as Melissa left him with us. But…” Her hand paused on my back, and a mischievous twinkle lit her eye. “…the smoothies help too.”

“We should order more,” Josie suggested playfully, raising an eyebrow. “see what happens.”

And then, in unison, all three lifted their now nearly empty cups. Their eyes locked on me - not giggling now, but wide, intense, and mock-serious. Slowly, deliberately, each girl took a long draw from her straw, their cheeks hollowing slightly with the suction. The slurping sound was exaggerated, intentional and became a hissing gurgle as Josie, Lakshmi and Aubrey each came to the end of their smoothies, sucking up the last drops. 

My mouth went dry. My face twitched. My legs stiffened beneath the table.  

And then they broke - the spell shattered in a burst of laughter.

“Omigod, his face!” Josie howled.

“Josie, please, language. But yes between the Melisssy Effect and these shakes,” Lakshmi said between laughs, “he is afraid our maternal instincts are going to jump into overdrive.”

“Mine already is,” Aubrey added, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye, “in overdrive.” She bit her lower lip and, placing her cup down thoughtfully on the table, met my eye and took a deep, inflating breath. 

Good lord, her chest is enormous, 

“I’m telling you,” Josie giggled, eyes on Aubrey - the girl couldn’t seem to help herself, “watch out, Dr. J. By the end of the day that one may have you in a stroller…”

“Feeding you from a bottle,” Lakshmi chimed in.

“…in a baby carriage,” Josie grinned. 

“Matching diaper bag,” added Lakshmi.

Aubrey was just quiet, watching my reactions as I tried to keep her gaze, which was daring me to let my eyes fall to her breasts. 

“Does he have a hat? He, like, needs a hat,” Josie proposed, “Something soft. Something…snug.”

“We could find him a nice soft blankie,” Lakshmi added, “Like the kind toddlers carry around until they are six?” She looked down at me and put a hand on my shoulder, breaking my gaze away from Aubrey. “Would you like that, Dr. J?“ she asked tenderly, “Would you like a blankie?”

“Y-you’re j-joking, right?” I stammered. 

“I hate how good this all sounds,” Josie asserted, mock-serious again, twirling her straw. “Like, is there a maternity store here? I actually want to shop for supplies for him.”

“It might really help Melissa out…” posited Lakshmi.

Please god no. 

“Ooo speaking of maternal instincts,” Josie spoke up, attention suddenly pulled up and away, into and across the crowd on the concourse.  “Look! There’s Shanette!”

“And she’s got her boyfriend with her,” Aubrey said, finally tearing her eyes away from me to look up from the table.

I looked up also and yes - maybe about fifty yards away, tall enough in the platform crocs she was wearing earlier to stand a head taller than most of the crowd - there was Shanette. It was weird how easily my eyes found her, and how my vision focused so sharply on her. She didn’t appear to see us over here, though, but her confident, poised, and unmistakably shapely silhouette strangely stood out to me even this far from the table. The bright white sleeveless dress she wore gleamed under the concourse lights, its high neckline accentuating the graceful length of her neck and shape of her shoulders, while fitted enough to emphasize the sculpted contrast of her narrow waist and long legs. But it was those breasts of hers that were the most eye-popping and - somehow, even from this distance - I couldn’t help but notice she was popping obvious nipples through her dress. Between them and the sheer size of her, it wasn’t just me watching her; heads invariably turned as she passed them with Scottie - who I just noticed now.

The poor guy was trailing dutifully behind like a reluctant shadow. He was carrying shoe boxes for her, three under one arm, while she tugged him along by the other. He was struggling to keep up with her longer strides as he clung to the boxes like an overburdened burro. I’d met this guy before, briefly. Apparently he’d been in high school with Shanette and Melissa, but had just started dating Shanette recently. Today he looked like he might’ve been scooped right off the couch: hoodie, joggers, sneakers loosely-laced. I didn’t remember if his frame had always been this slight but now, walking directly behind Shanette and against the backdrop of Vendare’s general tone of unapologetic femininity, he seemed even more understated, underfed and underdressed. At what I guess to be roughly 5’8”, he was still technically a lot taller than me but seemed pretty damn short next to his statuesque girlfriend, who was 6’3” - more in her platforms - if she was an inch.

“Should we yell out to her? Let her know we are here?” Lakshmi asked.

“I dunno she looks like a woman on a mission,” Josie replied, “and she’s got her hands full with Scottie.”

“Yeah, she’s stressed,” Aubrey added in, brows furrowed as she watched Shanette moving - quickly, yes, briskly - through the crowd. From our vantage, raised up a bit from the main concourse, we had a good view. But within moments she’d be out of sight of us. “She’s nervous about the show,” Aubrey said, speaking from her preternatural sense of empathy in observing Shanette, who just now gave an extra-hard tug on Scottie’s arm, pulling him after her impatiently. He’d almost tripped. “And she’s a bit frustrated with him.”

“Little guy can’t, like, keep up,” Josie quipped, tipping her smoothie up into her mouth so she could swallow down the last dregs of her MILFshake. She put the cup down on the table and, across the concourse, Shanette and Scottie had disappeared from view.

“She will do fine at the show, I know she will,” Lakshmi said, having just finished her own smoothie as well. She sat up straighter and looked at me, her eyes warm and certain. “We will go support her later. And Sheryl, too. She’s on that panel today at 2:30, remember?”

“OOoOooo..!” Aubrey exclaimed, checking time on her phone,”that’s just a few minutes away!”

“Oh, right. The real estate thing,” Josie said, already gathering up her tote. “What’s it called again - ‘Women in Development’ or something?”

“Something like that,” Aubrey added, looking down at me now, “Are you okay with that, Dr. J? Going to see Sheryl talk?”

Aubrey’s eyes were so kind, and she obviously knew me better than I thought.

“Y-yeah,” I answered, though not exactly relishing the idea. Strange, what divorce does to people…though of course I have only myself to blame.

Lakshmi gave my arm a soft pat. “Come on then, doctor. Let us get moving before all the good seats are gone.”

And just like that, I was on my feet again - my cup of water barely touched, my mind still whirring from all the estrogen-saturated energy around me - as the three of them gathered our things and swept me up into their purposeful orbit. The last of the smoothie cups hit the trash, and together we stepped onto the concourse, into the crowd, and headed deeper into the Vendare Center, toward whatever was coming next.

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