One Old Fool

Glen took his time putting the earrings away; he was still deep in memory of his first time with Carmen Thibodaux.

(Sammy's treatment of Carmen had burned into her consciousness; his order that she not go over to Glen's house, like he owned her, and his manhandling her had decided her fate.

Glen kept reminding her that Sammy was with cheerleaders, older, college women.

After a few beers, after her anger at Sammy, after Glen's constant patter, Carmen had very little resistance left in her.

"You were a fucking virgin?" Glen yelled, outraged.

His mother was extremely proud of her velour couch; the blood would be very difficult to get out of the material.

"Oh my God!" Carmen gasped.

She had intended to go to her marriage bed a virgin. Sammy and she had experimented with oral sex; she didn't want to get the title 'prick tease,' but they had gone no further than that.)

"Nuh uh! Aw no, itch! Yes I do fucking mind you look in my purse!" Glen heard some woman screaming and looked up to see his customer trying to get away from Heather Lee.

"Real shame," Heather smiled. "Come with me, Honey."

The woman made a dash for the handicapped door, the door to the left of the revolving door.

Heather shook her head in amusement; she'd thrown the switch deactivating both sets of doors right before approaching the woman.

"Mr. Simone," Cindy snapped, drawing his attention away from the drama a few yards away.

"Yes?" he snapped back.

The woman hit the door with all of her might, only to be thrown backward when the door did not budge.

"How many individual items are you supposed to have out at one given time?" she barked.

"What?" Glen barked back, irritated with her attitude.

"I asked, how many individual pieces, how many individual earrings, or rings, or necklaces are you supposed to have out at a time?" Cindy asked.

"Three," Glen said and again turned to see Heather easily pin the customer on the floor.

"And how many did you have out?" Cindy pressed.

"I don't know; five, six Glen shrugged.

"Eight," Cindy corrected.

"If you already knew..." Glen snapped.

"And how many do you have now?" Cindy asked, busily writing.

"Eight," Glen snapped.

"Try six," Cindy snapped and slapped a reprimand slip in front of him. "Please sign this."

"I'm not signing..." Glen protested.

"Oh goody!" Cindy said no smile on her face. "Refusal to sign a written reprimand is grounds for dismissal."

Glen angrily scribbled his signature.

"That's two," Cindy said smugly as Heather dragged the loudly protesting woman toward the elevator.

"I'm sue all you mother fuckers, you hear me?" the woman screamed as the elevator doors shut.

(Carmen had turned up pregnant; a stern faced Mr. Thibodaux and a dour faced Mrs. Thibodaux sat in the Simone living room, on the camel colored velour couch. Glen did find some amusement in the fact that Mr. Thibodaux was sitting on his daughter's stain.

His amusement faded as he realized they were talking about a wedding. Between himself and Carmen.

Glen had already moved on to Morgan Miller; a chunky girl with chunky tits and chunky ass. She believed all of his words of praise and also believed that there was no way she could get pregnant from anal sex.

"Well, actually, yeah you can," he had laughed. "Where do you think Republicans come from?"

"That's not funny!" she laughed, slapping his arm. "My dad's a Republican!"

Even as susceptible to empty praise as she was, Morgan Miller did not want to continue seeing Glen after his engagement to Carmen Thibodaux was announced.)

Tracy, Heather, and a short man came in, all three chattering and laughing.

"Bye, Sweetheart," Glen heard Tracy tell the short man and watched as she bent down to kiss him quickly, lovingly on his lips.

"Bye Sweetheart," Hillary mimicked Tracy and pretended that she was going to kiss the smiling man.

"Nuh uh, girlfriend; you best just keep away from my husband," Tracy mock-snarled.

"Uh huh," Hillary giggled and walked to her counter.

See you later," Glen heard the short man squeak.

"Thank you, Mrs. Scandurro," Hillary thanked Cindy for minding her department while she was out to lunch.

"No problem; so where'd y'all go eat?" Cindy smiled.

"Little wing place right there on nineteen; Tracy's husband Kevin? He works right around the corner from there so he took us," Hillary smiled. "Name of it is 'Best Wings in Bender,' even has a sign right out front says best wings in Bender. I've probably driven right past it like a million times and never seen it."

Tracy did not say anything to Glen; just clocked in and began looking for something to do.

"Oh, you sold those?" Tracy said, pointing to the vacant spaces in the earring display.

"No," Glen snapped, sure that Tracy had heard the news that the earrings were now in Heather's office.

"Oh," Tracy shrugged and got the keys for the display case.

She found another set of each earrings and put them into the display case, then locked both storage area and display case.

"Mrs. Mouton," Cindy greeted the woman, glad that she now remembered the woman's name.

"Yes ma'am?" Tracy asked, smiling politely.

"That was your husband?" Cindy asked.

"Yes," Tracy nearly gushed. "Kevin. We met in high school; well, actually, we've been in school together all our lives but we didn't start dating until high school. Actually...

She leaned closer to Cindy.

"Me and my friends, we played a mean trick on him," she confided.

Glen tried to edge closer but a glare from both Tracy and Cindy kept him on the other end of the counter.

"Anyway, he didn't take it lying down; he took all of our car keys and threw them into the lake; we all had to get our cars towed," Tracy giggled. "I knew, right then and there, he was the man for me."

She stood up straight and smiled happily.

"Five years later; I'm still just so crazy about him," Tracy said.

****

Tammy was upset about some bill or another; Glen had learned a long time ago how to shut out a woman's complaints. His mother had constantly complained, harping about this or that. Glen had never questioned why his father took off, never to return.

Glen just continued to eat the unappetizing stuff Tammy called dinner.

"Carmen knew how to cook, that's for sure," he thought to himself as he slowly chewed the rock hard vegetables.

(Carmen complained all the time; a trait, he was sure, she had inherited from her mother. His mother-in-law had complained all the time; when was he going to get a job? When was he going to start saving money? When was he going to help out around the house?)

Tracy's husband; she had called that little shrimp 'Sweetheart' and had told Hillary to stay away from her husband was a little guy. If he ever did object to Glen paying attention to his wife, it would be of no consequence.

(Courtney's boyfriend had not taken Glen's attention very lightly and had even threatened Glen in front of a fuming Courtney. This played in Glen's favor, though. Courtney was tired of her boyfriend's Neanderthal tactics. Glen's black eye had sealed the old boyfriend's fate.)

"Work my ass off all fucking day come home and find..." Tammy screeched on.

Unlike with Courtney, though, who needed to see that some men could be sensitive, nurturing, Tracy probably needed to see that some men could be real men.

He almost smiled, wondering if Tracy's itty bitty husband had an itty bitty cock as well. As amusing as that thought was, though, Tammy would not have been amused to see him smile. So, he kept his thoughts to himself and his face remained passive.

"Think you could try to..." Tammy went on.

(Cathy had needed a real man. The shrill woman was so used to making demands and getting her way. Her mother and her father just said 'yes dear' and gave her whatever she wanted. She needed to be shown that some men wouldn't 'yes dear' whenever she opened her mouth.

In fact, Glen had put her mouth to good use.

"I don't..." she had sputtered when he thrust his erection into her complaint box.

"Bite me and you won't have any teeth in that head of yours," Glen promised as he fucked her face.

Cathy again began making her demands the moment he pulled his softening cock out of her mouth. A sharp slap to her face stopped that.

"You..." she stammered, face a mask of shock. "You hit me!"

"Do it again you don't shut up," he promised.

She had planned for him to take her to the Oxford Tavern in Lafayette but sullenly agreed that Pete's did serve the best hamburgers.

She drank one, then five beers and was stumbling drunk by the time they left Pete's.

"You're MARRIED?" she had screamed when he told her why he couldn't take her back to his place.

Another sharp slap to her face, then a hard and fast fuck had silenced Cathy's complaints.

"Next time, you're giving up the ass," he promised.

There was no next time; Carmen agreed to the divorce and he left her, their daughters Elaine and Elise, and married Courtney.)

"And if you think I'll..." Tammy was still going strong.

Glen wondered briefly what would happen if he gave Tammy a much needed slap.

Glen had a moment of clarity, though. Tammy was not the type of woman to meekly take a slap. She would wait for her chance to administer pay-back and it would be very decisive pay-back. Tammy was not the type to get even; she would get beyond.

After a few beers, though, Tammy had calmed down enough for Glen to be able to apply his 'magic fingers' to her neck and shoulders, then her breasts.

"You think you can just fuck me and it's all good," Tammy had shrilled.

Chapter 2

Tracy smirked as Glen approached their section; Cindy had let it slip that Glen had not been as diligent and the same woman that had tried to steal from Tracy had managed to steal two sets of earrings from Glen.

Dempsey was rearranging the perfume display; Heather had complained to him twice about it, but had finally gotten the floor manager to agree. He looked over and also smirked at Glen.

"What?" Glen asked, checking himself for any stains on his tie or jacket.

Tracy didn't respond; just continued to flip through the inventory catalog.

"Look at the stuff on page fifty eight," Hillary said, standing in front of the case.

Tracy flipped forward and wrinkled up her nose.

"Believe that?" Hillary laughed. "They really think anyone's going to buy a CD player?"

"Or a record player?" Tracy asked, pointing out the phonograph.

"Actually, vinyl is making a come back," Glen offered.

"Uh, this is an A.B. conversation," Tracy said. "So um, why don't you C. your way out of it?"

Hillary did keep an eye on her section while managing to hold a conversation with her friend. Tracy continued to flip through the catalog and the two made observations on some of the offerings.

Dempsey, finished with his display, wandered over.

"Heard they also found all kind of make-up in that woman's purse," he weakly offered to Glen.

"Uh huh, and?" Glen rebuffed the young man.

"Well, wasn't just you and me got hit," Dempsey said.

"Did Mrs. Scandurro write you up?" Hillary asked.

"Nope; said she'd have to write herself up too," Dempsey smiled weakly.

"So, what's for lunch?" Hillary asked Tracy.

"Left-over pasta salad," Tracy said. "Kevin makes the best; his mom showed him how. He cuts up some chicken and there's all kind of olives and garlic and..."

"Quit," Hillary complained. "Have to knock you out and take it keep talking like that."

"Carmen? My first wife?" Glen said. "She used to make this real good chicken salad..."

"Never learned his ABCs," Tracy shook her head.

"First wife?" Hillary asked. "End in Divorce? Or suicide?"

"What about you? What you got for lunch?" Tracy asked.

"Kaitlin, my sister? Decided she's vegetarian; the root of all her troubles is all the meat she keeps stuffing in her. Couldn't be that she's just a stupid bitch, got to be anything but that; so my mom decided we're all vegan now. Got some tofu crap," Hillary made a face of disgust.

"Oh, them wings you were stuffing in your face yesterday are vegan now?" Tracy teased.

"Is in my book," Hillary smiled.

"Tell you what; we'll split mine," Tracy offered.

"No! That's not right!" Hillary protested.

Cindy Scandurro stepped off the elevator and almost laughed as the associates scattered like cockroaches. Hillary dashed for her counter and began to restack the cell phone boxes. Dempsey again lined up the perfume samplers on the counter. Olivia rearranged her lipstick display.

Tracy made eye contact with Cindy and smiled. Cindy nodded and smiled in return.

"You know, Ms. Monroe, we really don't mind a little fraternization among the associates, as long as you're not ignoring our customers," Cindy said to Hillary.

Hillary gave a guilty giggle and flashed a huge smile at Cindy.

"We also have that in red and beige," Jeanine offered as Cindy looked at a black pump.

"No, no, Sweetie," Cindy smiled.

She kicked herself mentally; this was another new hire and she could not remember the girl's name.

"I'm just wondering how anyone can even walk in those things," Cindy went on, pointing out the five inch heels.

"You get used to them," Jeanine smiled, showing Cindy that she was wearing the black pumps. "My Momma's always like 'Jeanine! Really! Look like hooker shoes!' and I'm always like 'And how you know what hooker shoes look like, huh?'"

"And what does she say to that?" Cindy smiled, imagining herself having the same sort of conversation with her daughter.

(Her daughter, Alicia Dumas, was now thirty one years old, the mother of three, two boys and a girl, step mother to another girl and pregnant again, but she would always be Cindy's baby. Two nights earlier, she'd had an argument with Alicia about Alicia riding a Harley-Davidson chopper to school.

"Really, Alicia! You're a grown woman! And a school principal! Quit riding that dangerous thing!" Cindy had said.

"You said it, Mom," Alicia smiled. "I'm a grown woman.")

"She just throws her hands up, says 'Jeanine Annette Gremillion, if your father were here...'" Jeanine laughed.

"Thank you, Ms. Gremillion," Cindy smiled as a customer wandered into the shoe department.

"Told you," Heather said, popping up out of nowhere. "That perfume display was a shoplifter's magnet."

"Ms. Lee, no one likes a know-it-all," Cindy said, faking a glare at the red head.

"Uh huh," Heather smiled and waved as she disappeared behind a rack of men's suits.

"You know, those sapphire earrings would really look great on you; match your eyes," Glen suggested, moving Tracy's hair behind her left ear.

"Don't you EVER put your hands on me!" Tracy snapped, stepping away from him.

"Sorry!" he said, putting his hands up in defense.

He put the sapphire earrings back into the case, and then smiled at the young woman that leaned against the case to his left, looking at the women's watches. Her halter top gaped open and he had an unobstructed view of her left breast and a small brown nipple.

"I see that one? The black one?" the young girl asked, pointing.

"Ah, yes ma'am, the Cross?" Glen asked, unlocking the case.

"No, the watch," the girl said, face twisted in confusion.

"No ma'am, Cross is who makes it," Glen smiled and pulled it out.

"Oh," the woman said.

Her eyes flickered slightly at the four hundred and twenty nine dollar price tag and Glen smiled tightly. That flicker told him that she couldn't afford the watch.

"Y'all got layaway?" the girl asked.

"Yes ma'am, we do," Glen's smile tightened.

He disliked layaway purchases; instead of one big commission of six percent of the total, he would only get six percent of each payment, which hardly amounted to anything on each paycheck.

"How much I got to put down?" the girl asked.

"Twenty percent, but you can put more if you like," Glen intoned, already looking at an older woman that was looking at the brooches.

He again had an urge to throw his keys at Tracy as the attractive associate approached the older woman.

"Twenty percent of four..." the woman mumbled out loud.

"Eighty five eighty," Glen said harshly.

He watched as Tracy pulled out two of the diamond encrusted brooches and watched as the customer's eyes brightened.

"Both of them?" Tracy asked, a little surprised.

"They're gifts," the woman explained.

"Yes ma'am," Tracy said and took the woman's American Express card.

She rang the purchase up, and then showed the woman the receipt.

"You take this up to the second floor? Show them the receipt and they'll gift wrap them for you," Tracy suggested. "It's free."

"Oh well thank you!" the woman said, pleased.

"No thanks," the girl said, angered by Glen's snappish behavior.

Glen, having come to the conclusion that Tracy was quite accustomed to men fawning over her looks, decided to try a different tactic.

"Good job; smart of you telling her to take those brooches upstairs," Glen complimented Tracy.

She didn't answer him; she was still upset at his touching her.

"That way, she'll probably see other things she'll want," Glen continued.

Tracy put two more brooches into the case and locked both storage and display cases.

"You um, you plan on leaving that watch out all day?" she snapped.

"Two more I-phones, um, six percent of..." Hillary crowed.

"Ooh, Eileen's going to be so jealous!" Tracy congratulated her friend.

"Mr. Glen?" Tracy asked.

"Yes?" he smiled.

"Okay if I go to lunch now?" Tracy asked as Hillary paged for the floor manager.

"Sure, sure," he said, locking the watch back in the case.

Again he watched their tight asses walk away, and then looked over to Cindy Scandurro as she busied herself with the electronics display. He smirked as Cindy struggled to avoid eye contact with him.

(Janice Dayton had very easily fallen for compliments and had very willingly spread her pudgy thighs for Glen. Her twin sister had shrugged off his compliments, until he started telling her how smart she was.

Having the two of them together had been great. They would not touch each other, but they both readily touched him. Then Janice's boyfriend had walked in.

"You God damned whore," he had spat at the now crying Janice.

He pulled an engagement ring out of his jeans pocket.

"Was going to fucking ask you to marry me, fuck if that will ever happen now," he spat and left.

Jeanette let Glen fuck her a few times afterward, but Janice never did. Then Janice cornered him at Early's grocery store, with Carmen, Elaine, and Elise right next to him, and loudly announced that she was pregnant.

"And?" he had asked the pudgy woman. "Give your boyfriend a call and tell him the good news.")

The young woman that had looked at the watch passed by and Glen admired her tight shorts as she strolled past.

"Fuck Tammy and her cheap ass lunches," Glen thought. "I'm going to Dead End for lunch."

"And he'd really like a baby, says he don't care if it's a boy or girl, but I know he really wants a little girl; God! You ought to see the way he gets all choked up when we're talking about possible girl names," Tracy was chattering as she and Hillary walked back to their counters.

"Well, maybe next month, huh?" Hillary said, smiling sympathetically.

"Yeah, started crying like a baby when my period started," Tracy agreed. "God! I was so sure we'd..."

Tracy realized Glen was listening and clammed up.

"Oh, I've always liked the name Hillary," Hillary joked.

"Uh huh, I'm so sure," Tracy smiled and let herself into the sales area.

She clocked in, and then busied herself with checking the Omega watch inventory against what was on display.

"So, um, having a little trouble um, conceiving?" Glen asked.

"Like that is ANY of your business," Tracy snapped.

"Husband shooting blanks?" Glen smugly asked.