The Gift

I knew that this year was a special year. The seventh anniversary that we first met, seven years since that special day when I first gathered the guts to ask her out. Seven years of tears, of joy, of pain, of pleasure, of sorrow and of happiness. Seven long years spread across two continents, separated by the vastness of the Pacific.

Seven years. That magic number. It had to be something special, something intimate, something that makes her feel so much closer to me. Over the years, I've come up with a lot of gift ideas, from flowers to chocolates, to cutesy obfuscated C code and even other geeky pranks which surprised and then please her.

But of course, this time it is different. It had to be more intimate. I didn't quite know what to get her, but as I lay there on my bed, looking at the ceiling and wondering deeply to myself, for some odd reason, one word came to mind.

A brassiere. Not any brassiere, but one of those silky soft oh-so-expensive ones from Victoria's Secret. Complete with matching panties of course. That would definitely titillate her and surprise her once more; who'd have thought that I would have the gall to buy such an intimate gift for her?

Nah. Sounds too kinky. But try as I might, I could not come up with a good reason why I shouldn't do this. And so making up my mind, I slept and waited for tomorrow to come.

I woke up, bright and early, and wondering why in the blazes I had to set myself up for such an impossible task. Everyone knows that the ladies who man the Victoria's Secret store are evil towards guys who shop there; I've heard plenty of scary stories where the guys who were shopping there for their significant others had been embarassed rather publicly about what they were doing.

I'd try my luck then. Thankfully, there was one that was rather far away, far enough that I don't think that I will run into people I know. I mean, I know I'm rather thick-skinned, but it is kind of hard trying to explain why a man was at Victoria's Secret shopping without sounding too suspicious.

So, I drove to the shop, and parked discreetly far away. I had brought along a nondescript brown paper bag, just to hide the tell-tale Victoria's Secret shopping bag. Standing in front of the store front, I mustered my courage and nonchalantly walked into the store.

Glancing around discreetly, I made my way to the rack which contained the silky, lacy lingerie and discreetly picked up a set which I thought was probably good enough for her. Thankfully, it was early enough that no one else was in the store, save for the cashier.

Somewhat apprehensively, I shuffled my way to the cashier and presented my purchase. Eyeing me with a somewhat amused look, she smiled at me.

``For a loved one?''

``Uh... yeah.''

``Awww... that's so sweet of you! Most guys won't even have the guts to step in here!''

``Uh... huh...''

``Here's your purchase, and have a nice day! I'm sure she'll be really pleased with your selection!'' She winked at me as she put the lingerie into a non-descript white bag as opposed to the pink-and-white striped one that they usually used.

``Don't worry, we have a policy of treating our customers with understanding and respect.'' And with that, she handed me the bag and bade me farewell.

So I stepped out of the store, and walked to my car, feeling somewhat relieved that I managed to make my purchase without embarassing myself.

Who said that folks weren't nice people?

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 25 Feb 2008 17:00:21)

[Ed: I swear that this was written in response to the topic of ``Write a story where a bra features in the story'']