Victoria's Little Secret

"If there's anything I can do for you, honey, I'll be right over here folding these crotchless panties," the saleslady said as I wandered like a lost child through the mall store. I had never been in Victoria's Secret before, and I was overwhelmed by the incredible number of visual aids available to me, all for the purpose of seducing my man.

I wasn't in the store by choice. Unlike my two...I mean three...uh...four sisters, I hate to shop. Well, I don't hate to shop. I just dislike it immensely. And if I must shop, then I just Google the nearest Goodwill. Just like Google, Goodwill has answers for everything. Going to a funeral but don't have anything black to wear?  Don't fret. Goodwill's got the dress for you and the shoes, too. You may have to safety pin the waist so it doesn't look like a maternity dress and stuff toilet paper in the toes of the shoes, but Hey! what do you expect for $7.39?

"Still looking, honey? If there's anything you need, I'll be right over here stacking these nippleless bras," the saleslady said after finding me in a state of catatonic delirium at the see-through négligée display.

Catatonic Delirium

A condition in the brain caused by

outside forces in the environment that

result in the brain appearing to shutdown.

This condition is oftentimes mistaken for 

someone texting on their cellphone.

                                          --Mikidikipedia

Luckily no one noticed my momentary stupor. It was my and Victoria's little secret. I continued to wander aimlessly through the store. Did I mention I wasn't at Victoria's Secret by choice? Why would I  pay $30 for crotchless panties when I could buy slightly-used undies at Goodwill for $1.49 and cut the crotch out myself? But it didn't matter what I wanted; it was what my man wanted that mattered. 

"When it comes to sex," he said, "men are visual." He was one of the seven loves allotted to me in this lifetime, and I wanted to please him both off my bed and on. Outside of the bedroom, which comprised of 99% of our relationship, I gave him the best of me, but it was that 1% behind closed doors that caused him to stray. Well, it wasn't his fault. It was those dang over-sized, high-waisted, slightly-used Goodwill panties that I insisted on wearing because, well, they were comfortable.

So, here I was at Victoria's Secret trying to keep my man. I was desperate to not lose him to her, the seductress with a closet full of dirty little secrets. But my efforts to satisfy my visual lover were to no avail. She won; I lost. But, in retrospect, in hindsight, in the end...not really. 

It's been almost twenty years since I last stepped inside a Victoria's Secret, and I don't have plans to return any time soon. I have won the Best-Mate Lotto and thank God he doesn't wear his glasses to bed.