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My Summer in Pantyhose

by Jeremy Chandler

Chapter 6

 

"Jamie," said my mother as I was approaching the kitchen table for dinner, "you really should be wearing your slippers. You're going to get more runs and pantyhose don't grow on trees."

Julie smiled, trying to hold back a giggle.

"Maybe you should wear slippers as well Julie," my mother remarked.

"But I'm not wearing hose."

"Maybe you should be. I noticed you didn't wear any to work today. From now on I want you wearing hose when you're at work. You need to learn to look professional."

"Mom!"

"I'm serious Julie."

It was now my turn to smile. When my mother says "you really should" do something, it's not a suggestion but a command. I returned a few minutes later wearing my pink fuzzy slippers. I was still on cloud nine thinking about the girl I had met at Target. Should I call her today or wait until tomorrow. My mother and sister chatted through dinner but I didn't hear a thing they said. I was too busy day dreaming about Elizabeth. This had never happened to me before. A girl had actually shown an interest in me and she didn't want help with her homework.

After dinner I stretched out on the couch to think about my options with Elizabeth. As I considered actually doing something, the euphoria started to wear off and fear and doubt set in. What would I say if I called her? What if this was all a joke? What if she gave me a fake number? Julie flopped down in a chair opposite me with one of those teen girl fashion mags.

"Julie," I began, "can I ask your advice on something?"

She wrinkled her nose as she looked at me over the top of her magazine. "This doesn't have anything to do with pantyhose does it?"

"No," I said. "This is serious." I then related my meeting with Elizabeth.

Julie stared at me in open-mouthed amazement. "A girl gave you her phone number? Wow. Are you going to call her?"

"I guess so."

"You guess so? Jamie, this is the best thing that has ever happened to you. How can you not call her?"

"I don't know what to say."

"Ask her out you dope."

"Who are you asking out?" asked me mother who had entered the living room while Julie and I were talking.

I related my story about Elizabeth and my mother was equally enthralled as Julie but much less amazed. I guess Julie can't imagine me as anything other than a geeky dweeb.

"I don't think you should start going on dates yet Jamie. Why don't you try to get to know her a bit better first."

"Can I use the phone?"

"Use the one in the kitchen."

I was somewhat relieved that I couldn't date yet. If the topic came up I could honestly say my mother wouldn't let me instead of admitting I was too scared. I punched in the numbers with shaking fingers. I had to put the paper with the number on the table because my hand was shaking so much. I couldn't read it otherwise. I waited for several rings, prepared to just hang up if voice mail took the call.

"Hello," asked an older woman.

"Hi, um, is Elizabeth there?"

"Who's calling?"

"Uh, Jamie. I just met her today."

"Just a minute."

A young girl answered a moment later. "Hello?"

"Hi Elizabeth. It's Jamie."

"Jamie?"

"The guy you met at the store today."

"Oh, yeah. The guy wearing pantyhose. Did your slippers fit?"

"Yeah, they did." My ego was in free fall. She had already forgotten my name. There was an exceedingly long, awkward moment of silence. I couldn't think of any thing to say. I kind of thought I knew how the conversation would go but none of this was according to plan. I wanted to hang up.

"So what did you call about?" she finally asked.

"Well, uh, you gave me your number. Uh, what's your IM name?" Finally I managed something intelligent.

We exchanged IM names. "I'm usually online in the morning or later in the evening," she said.

"I'm on in the evening mostly."

"Do you live with your grandmother?"

"No, I just stay with her during the day while my mom and sister are at work." That sounded lame.

"What a bummer. My mom let's us stay home alone. How old are you?"

"I'll be a freshman next year."

"Cool. Me too. Which school?"

I told her the name of the high school I would be attending.

"Wow! Me too."

I heard some talking in the background.

"I have to go now. My sister needs to use the phone. I'll IM you sometime. Bye."

"Bye."

I returned to the living room determined to never think about Elizabeth again. My mother and sister stared at me expectantly. I told them how the call went. They were sympathetic. I trudged up to my room to read a book.

Friday passed quietly at my grandmother's house. I lounged on the couch reading most of the day and I wore my slippers. I couldn't quit thinking about Elizabeth though. You would think I had been dumped by a long-time girlfriend. Fortunately my grandmother didn't ask me about it. When my mother and I picked up Julie at the mall after work she was wearing a skirt and hose, just as my mother had told her she would. At least life isn't completely unfair.

Saturday morning my mother surprised me when out of the blue she announced that we were going to the mall. My sister and I both protested. I guess she was sick of being there after a week of work and I always hated the place. Like most teenage boys I found shopping a torture and the kids who tended to hang out at the mall were not my friends.

"Mom, can't I stay home? I've been there all week?" cried Julie.

"I'll buy you some new shoes."

"Okay. Let me fix my hair."

I would not be so easily bought off. "Why do I need to go? School won't start for months."

"I think you need some new clothes."

This didn't sound good. "What's wrong with the clothes I have?"

"Mainly you need some different shoes. Now go get ready and step on it."

"Can I wear jeans?"

"I think it's too hot for jeans."

We were soon all in the car heading for the mall. Julie was in the front seat excitedly talking about some sandals she wanted to buy. I was in the back dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, hose, and tennis shoes with socks. I kept trying to figure out what my mother had in mind. My shoes fit fine and I had plenty of them. And who would I see at the mall. No one that I was really friends with but still, those kids were mean.

The mall wasn't too crowded. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and most people probably had something better to do. I certainly had better things to do. I followed close behind my mother and sister, watching for anyone I knew. I realized very few people would notice my hose but I was still paranoid.

We proceeded immediately to the shoe store that Julie had been raving about. It catered mostly to young women so I stood around, bored to death, while Julie picked out her sandals. There were a couple other teenage girls browsing the shoes but they weren't paying any attention to us. The sales woman helping Julie and my mother didn't seem to notice me either other than an initial smile. I guess she smelled an easy commission. She certainly was pretty and well dressed in her skirt, black hose, and flats.

Once Julie had settled on a pair of shoes, my mother turned to me. "Okay Jamie, lets get a couple pairs for you."

I felt all the blood drain out of my face. This store sold girls shoes. "I haven't seen any tennis shoes that I like here."

"I'll find some shoes for you. Now sit down so she can get your size."

Julie was about to explode into laughter. The sales women was smiling at me.

I sat down next to Julie. I knew better than to make a scene.

"Go ahead and take your shoes and socks off honey," my mother directed. "Both of them."

I unlaced my shoes and removed my socks while the sales woman returned with one of those devices used to determine your shoe size. She pulled up a stool across from me while my mother stood behind me. Julie had strapped on her new sandals.

The sales woman put the device on the floor and directed me to place my foot in it. "You certainly don't need any socks with your nylons," she commented to me smiling. "Do we want men's or women's sizing," she asked my mother.

"Women's."

The sales woman calculated my size then asked my mother what she had in mind. The pair headed off to make some selections. Julie was still smiling at me.

"Did you know anything about this?" I asked.

"No. Absolutely nothing. I swear."

I noticed the two teenage girls glancing my way.

The sales woman and my mother returned with several boxes.

"Let's try the penny-loafers first," said my mother.

The sales woman guided my foot into a dark brown shoe. "How does it feel?" she asked while checking for the end of my toe.

"Fine."

"Those look really nice Jamie," commented Julie.

"Don't they," answered the sales woman. "Let's put the other one on. Now stand up and take a few steps."

I took a couple steps then sat back down. I kept my eyes on my feet but I did notice those two girls watching from a distance.

"I think these will be great for dress and casual," the sales woman said to my mother.

"Just what I was thinking," my mother replied.

"Does he wear pants?" the sales woman ventured.

Julie stifled a giggle.

"Pants and shorts, though it's hard to get him out of shorts sometimes."

"I wouldn't want to wear pants either with such nice legs," remarked the sales woman.

The process was repeated until I had tried on all the shoes in the boxes. Fortunately the girls left and it was just the four of us in the store. I was thankful my mother brought me early in the morning. My mother decided to buy four pairs for me: the penny-loafers I tried on first; some black mary-janes, a pair of open-backed clogs, and a pair of birkenstock sandals. Except for the mary-janes, the shoes could all pass as men's shoes if you didn't look too closely.

I was going to put my sneakers back on but my mother stopped me. "Why don't you wear your new sandals."

The sales woman smiled as she handed the sandals to me then put my tennis shoes and socks in the sandals box.

My sister and I waited outside the store while my mother finished paying for the shoes. I didn't understand why she was making such an investment.

"Your feet sure look nice in your new sandals," kidded Julie.

"Shut up."

Julie laughed. "Do you wear pants or SKIRTS?"

"SHUT UP."

"Hey you two, cut it out."

"She started it," I blurted out.

"I don't care. Let's take all these boxes out to the car."

"Are we going home now?" I asked.

"Not quite."

"Mom, why did you buy me all these shoes?"

"I thought some women's shoes might be easier on your hose. The insides of the shoes are softer and smoother than men's shoes."

"They also look better," remarked Julie. "You were starting to look like a geek with your other shoes."

"Be nice Julie."

After we deposited the bags from the shoe store in the trunk we headed back into the mall and stopped in a Guess store. Julie drifted off to look at some shirts while my mother was looking at the boys shorts. I figured I was going to get some new jean shorts.

A pretty, young girl approached my mother and asked if she needed any help.

"Do you have any shorts that are shorter?" All the shorts were of the long and baggy style.

"Not in those I'm afraid. Are these for him?" she asked, glancing in my direction.

"Yes, they are," answered my mother.

"This is all we have in boys shorts. The style is quite popular now."

"What about in womens?"

"Oh, well, yes. They're right over here." We followed her across the store to several racks of shorts that were decidedly shorter. She explained something about the sizing then gave me an awkward smile as she left to help my sister.

"Mom, I can't wear these."

"Don't worry. They'll look good on you."

I watched with trepidation as my mother looked through the shorts, taking them out for a closer look, putting them back, and occasionally handing a pair to me. When she was done I was holding six pair.

"Okay," she said. "Let's try these on." My mother waved to the sales girl who counted the number of shorts I held then unlocked one of the changing rooms for us.

I kicked off my sandals and removed my shorts then slid on the first pair. "They're too tight," I told my mother who was waiting outside the door.

"Keep trying."

"Are you having trouble with sizing?" asked the sales girl.

"I've never bought womens shorts for him before. I'm not quite sure what size he is."

"I see."

"I can't stand those baggy shorts boys wear these days. They look so sloppy."

"I totally agree."

I came out in my stockinged feet wearing a pair that fit comfortably. The shorts stopped just above mid-thigh. I was showing a lot more leg and hose than my old shorts did.

"Those look wonderful," said my mother. "Turn around."

"Great fit," remarked the sales girl. I noticed her staring at my feet. She then looked up at me and smiled.

"Try the other ones on in that size too Jamie. And put your shoes back on when you come out. You'll snag your hose on this rough carpet."

"I thought he was wearing pantyhose," remarked the sales girl. "They look really good on him."

"I know. He wants to wear them," answered my mother.

"Hey Mom, can I try these on?" asked Julie.

"Sure, go ahead."

I heard my sister enter the changing booth next to me. I tried on the other shorts that fit and showed them to my mother. The sales girl had wandered off. My mother took the shorts from me but told me to wait in the changing booth. She came back a minute later with a pair of the new shorts with the tags and security device removed. "You can wear these home."

I put on my new shorts then found that my wallet didn't fit into the back pocket. I also noticed the back pockets had yellow flowers embroidered on them. My heart sank. There was no way people would mistake these for men's shorts. I put my wallet in a front pocket and, carrying my old shorts, joined my sister outside the store. Julie was getting a new shirt while I was getting three new pairs of shorts.

"Nice shorts Jamie. You look really hip now."

"Look at the back pockets," I whined.

"Oh those are cute."

"I'm not going for cute."

Julie snickered. "Looks like Mom is though."

 

to be continued

  

  

  

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© 2005 by Jeremy Chandler. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.