She hated being so very fussy about how she looked, but tonight, well tonight was going to be her second chance. Or was it actually her third or fourth? Not that she had dementia or anything, but she never could keep them all straight in her head.
Lets see, first there was Joe then Steven, yes Steven was her second. Then…she drew a 30 second blank, George and Paul… Wait, no they were Beatles… it was….George then Andrew. That was the order, she nodded to herself. Oh well, tonight it was to be Bartholomew , so whatever the count, it didn’t really matter, she was excited as if it was her first.
Onward with the primping. She delved deep into the closet, having to find just the right thing to complement her beautiful face with it’s dazzling smile. For years everyone said, yep, the first thing they noticed about her was that stupefying smile of hers. Some may have been leg men and some had favored the 34 double D’s but right off the bat, it was the smile that would reel them in. Her sensual lips, bathed in bright glistening coral, were just the frame for the pearly whites. It was a smile that would suck you in before you knew what had hit you and once there, well, you were down for the count brother. She knew she had never “lost” it, even after all these years.
Finally she was ready. Her prince was to arrive soon. She stared in the mirror and in her gaze there stared back, the femme fatale of the fifties. The chime of the doorbell snapped her out of her reverie. Wait, there is something awry. ” What am I missing?” she thought in panic. Glancing around the room she spied her answer.
Running to the bedside and grabbing the glass, in she popped those pearly whites. Now… she was complete.
Plot Thickens, Thursday:
A second chance