eau detour

I'm sucked into my world, exiting the train, having just folded and placed the paper under my arm. I'm thinking about the meeting i'm running slightly late to, and the meetings that will follow it. My head is several floors above my feet. I'm shuffling in the crowd of people corralling up the stairs from the subway platform, maneuvering through the swarm of random trajectories, each of which are carried with equal rush and importance. I approach the turnstile to exit, and suddenly cross paths with an elegant young lady with the same intentions as i. Extending my hand graciously in front of me, i point her the way, letting her go through the gates before me. As i follow her exit, a cloud of her perfume wafts across my face, spilling into my nostrils. For that instant, i forget any thoughts of any meetings or agendas or floors or skyscrapers.

An intense desire to pounce, to tackle that sweetness and spread my wicked agenda all over that primped and pruned presentation is all i perceive.

The autumn leaves me smiling

The crispness in the air that serves a pleasant note of chill to the skin has arrived, and with it comes my favorite season: boot season. In the past, i've dictated how i have a reflex reaction to the sound of heels upon the pavement. My head jerks in the direction of the click-clack percussive, for which i most certainly look odd, nonetheless my adoration for the heel-shodden female takes command at these moments. Most times, my instantaneous peek of excitement quickly turns to glib dissappointment because the chosen footwear doesn't fit my (admittedly) narrow aesthetic. However, should the shape and form match my likes, i will study them, examine how the girl's foot lays in them, the impact on her calf (if visible) and her buttocks, and how she holds her posture standing in them. If i'm truly smitten by the wearer and the worn, i've been known to take a 20 minute detour just to follow the lass so that i can witness the pedestrian pageant.

Another reason occurs to me why i enjoy this season so much. The cold weather discourages a practice that i've come to revile. It's rather tough to dress in tight, revealing, midriff-exposing rags when the windchill drops - and thank God for that! My male colleagues relish the Spring thaw because with the rising temperatures comes rising hemlines, and frankly, as i've often stated, this rush for females to sluttify their appearances greatly diminishes their power over other women, men, and sadly, themselves. They've removed the anticipation and imagination about what they might appear like in their bedroom, and paraded it around like a stripper who's only absent their pole.

I was recently reminded of this distinction and the real power a lady dressing in a classy and elegant, yet still sexy fashion has. In my office, the environment is highly male-dominant, and the few females in the ranks feel the need to dress down and minimize their femininity in order to achieve their spot in the pecking order. One, however, stands out. Since her start here six years ago, she has always presented herself with excelled beauty and dignity, taking great care in her appearance. She keeps her hair very long, easily to the base of her back. Her costume usually consists of skirts and dresses and always heels. Her hands are exquisitely manicured, and her makeup subtle but striking. She has a very devout Christian faith that she allows to quietly guide her decisions and her opinions (e.g. she won't let her son celebrate Halloween), and she tolerates absolutely zero crude or sexist remarks (which is commendable in a very high-ego, macho environment).

The other day, i was picking up my mail, and she came scooting by me with considerable velocity. She boisterously greeted me as she passed. I returned her greeting by smiling, and instinctively scanning the floor to catch a glimpse of her heels du jour. 5" stilletto heel, knee-high, black leather boots with constrast grey lacing on the sides. Very fetching. I just had to have an excuse to engage in a longer conversation where i could catch a few more glimpses of her appearance (quite honestly, she has to, by this point notice how intently i study her chosen garments). Even though my girl has become quite the pro in maneuvering in rather high heels, i decided to play up my bewilderment at how any girl could manage.

"I have to ask, but how do you manage to whip by with such agility in those things."

I pointed at the boots that extended out beneath her desk. She looked up with a smile, hearing that it was my voice behind the question.

"It's not that hard. Have you ever tried?"

"Ha ha, uhm, i may have when i was in college, i don't really remember."

"Well, ladies are built for it. We have different physiques."

This qualified for a follow-up question of clarification that my smartass mind conjured but quickly contained.

"I agree. Just this morning, my girl put on her maroon, patent leather, mary jane platforms, and i marveled at how effortlessly she could navigate our stairs."

"Exactly. With practice, it's easy enough to do. You like how she looks in them, don't you?"

"Without a doubt."

We smiled and laughed a little longer, while my eyes finished their meal. Knowing how reserved and dignified she was made this exchange even more enjoyable. I wouldn't have had nearly as much a thrill had she shoved her cleavage in my face and sold her wares with loose urgency. Her restraint, the indications she gave that her body was off-limits made her all the more attractive. I excused myself as a little hint in the back of my mind told me she had an inkling as to what portion of my appetite she'd help satiate.