A funny moment happened during my close this evening. As I was melting the ice in the service counter I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.
I looked up and spyed a woman meandering towards my area, stopping to browse the selections in the various bunkers in the aisle.
She was wearing a tight-fitting cotton dress that stopped a few inches above her knees. As she moved it would pull seductively along her hips. Her skin was the color of coffee and cream, her hair, brown and shoulder-length with tan highlights.
Her flipflops smacked softly on the tile floor.
It was difficult to get a look at her face because she had a phone to her ear and was constantly looking down at contents of the bunkers. She's pretty, I thought. I was prepared to let that be the end of it. But, as she walked by the counter, she looked up at me.
I made a grunting noise in my throat as if I had been punched in the stomach. My head jerked back involuntarily.
Her face looked like a Billy Goat I had seen in a petting zoo at the Fort Worth Stockyards.
I attempted to smile to cover my reaction. She smiled back and continued walking away from me through the rest of my area.
She had a great ass.