Shop Girl

I used to come and watch you for a few hours each day. I would press my face against the shop’s display window and stare at your extravagant beauty. You modeled there, but I knew for a fact that you weren’t one of those dumb, painted mannequins; no, you were alive and radiant.

I let my eyes soak up your lush exquisiteness, your smooth skin… oh, how I longed to touch and caress you. How I longed to march straight into that shop and run my hands all over you. But I knew I couldn’t. Why, you ask? Because if I ever did hold you, I wouldn’t be able to let go.

I even went to look at you when I went out with my girlfriend. I know that was totally out of line, but I couldn’t help it; you were so beautiful. I had many rows with my girl about you, I would tell her that she was more important, but she wouldn’t buy it – I can’t blame her, because I had been lying then. In the end, she finally made me choose between you and her. I was thrown out of the apartment within the next minute.

I gave up on a lot of other things for you; I passed up many gatherings and outings with my mates, I weasled out of many blind dates, I skipped my lunch breaks altogether… heck, I almost got fired for being late to work because I’d lose track of time watching you. It was an addiction.

I even gave you a name. I called you Rachel because I loved that name so much. I didn’t know what you were really called, but that didn’t matter, because to me you were Rachel now. You may think it’s stupid, but I felt like we were meant for each other. I was haunted by the fear of going to the shop one day and not finding you there. My friends said I was obsessed, but I ignored them; they don’t know you like I do. Then they went on to tell me to go for it and meet you, but I told them that I wasn’t ready yet. I was afraid of being turned down.

However, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking of meeting you. That goal was high on my to-do list. I woke up and slept and that goal hung before my eyes all the time. I lived my life working a way to be able to meet you.

Rachel. Rachel. Rachel.

Your name was all over the place. On my notebooks. On my papers. On my cereal boxes. On my tables. I loved the sound of your name. When I sat by myself I kept repeating your name over and over again. My Rachel. You were everything to me. I loved you more than anything, even though I didn’t know you that well, even though there was always a glass barrier between us to prevent our contact. For the first time in my life I knew what it was like to be in love with someone, and it felt great.

“What are you waiting for, then?”

Everybody asked me that question. Everybody was so sick and tired of my love for you. If you ask me, I think they’re all jealous of the special bond we shared. We never spoke to each other, but we were all too aware of each other’s existence. I know you wanted me to come and take you of that shop, but I had to wait a bit more.

But the day came when I definitely ready. For the first time since I saw you, I walked into the shop. I shot a quick glance at you and smiled before approaching the shop’s owner.

“Yes, lad? How may I help you?” he asked.

“Rachel.”

The man blinked and I pointed a shaking finger at you, at which point his lips twisted into a smirk. “Oh, you mean her,” he said. “That’s a pretty name you’ve given to our prettiest girl. Do you have what it takes to have her? ‘Cause she may be an eye-candy, but she’s no sweetie.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll take her no matter what.”

“And do you have…?” the man said, and his voice trailed off as he made a small discrete gesture with his hand, and I nodded vigorously. “She’s all your then.”

I felt my spirits soar. You were mine! After this long wait, you were finally mine. Mine alone. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. With shaky steps, I ventured closer, then wrapped my arms tightly around you. You didn’t push me away, and that made me really happy.

You were officially my Rachel now. My very first Harley Davidson.

– – –

This is something I wrote a while ago and have always been fond of, so I thought I’d post it up here. Now I wonder, did you see that ending coming? 😉 Have you ever wanted something as badly? I tend to name inanimate objects too (my laptop for example is called Francesca), do you? 

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26 thoughts on “Shop Girl

  1. I didn’t imagine an ending like this…
    Congrats ,my dear ,your writing is superb!
    Yes , I use to put names,too…: Mona Lisa ,is my washing machine.
    Esmeralda and Platinette , my son’s and Rene”s cars….
    Ciao,Zen!

  2. jaschmehl says:

    Totally surprised by the ending! I don’t name inanimate objects. They already have too much power over me, to name them would give them more! 😉

    • Well, it seems like my story got the desired effect. I was hoping no-one would realise the ending before the final line. 😉 And thank you; that’s really nice of you to say!

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