I know the forum is largely a place for mindless vitriol and posting pictures of men with coathangers jammed down their japseyes but i hope you will forgive a man who is, shall we say, seeing the rosy glow of youth gently fade, sharing a poignant tale of a tentative hand reached out across the generations for love and affection.
A few years ago i was working as the manager of a jewellery shop when the owner informed me she had taken on a student, lets call her Sarah (that was her name) to work with me on saturdays. The first day she came through the door, being at a dangerous age (for the women around me)I was relieved to see she wasn't the type i fall for. She had dark brown eyes, almost nigger (not the kind of nigger eyes Wackerle's birds end up with) blond hair and a slightly weak chin. Over the weeks although i was nominally her boss there wasn't much to do so we just chatted and I got to know her; her life, her ambitions and hopes and i felt it was a priviledge to be let in on a young woman's faltering steps into adulthood. I started to look forward all week to saturdays. She would catch me looking at her in the reflection of the cabinets and i would see her try to hide a smile. Now i'm not the kind of guy who thinks every girl who flirts is interested in me but when she turned up wearing skin tight leopard print leggings i did start to wonder if i was kindling something in her as she had in me. That day as she left to be picked up by her mum she stopped by the door and saying goodbye held my gaze for several long seconds during which i like to think a mutual understanding passed between us. Although i imposed no dresscode upon her as the senior member of staff i had to maintain a certain sartorial standard. The next saturday i laid all my clothes out on the bed (think the dressing scene from American Giggolo). I settled on my finest prince of wales check suit, a salmon pink button down YSL shirt and a contrasting vitage Hardy Aimes silk tie. Every time she passed close that day i felt a indescribable welling up in my chest.As she was about to leave i called her over. The space was tight behind the counter.
"Sarah,I..."
She looked up into my face, "What is it?" concern clouding her face.
" I..I.."
Our faces were a foot apart, i could feel the heat from my chest rising up through my shirt.
She looked into my eyes, "just say it" she murmered.
"I..I..WANT YOU SO BAD I COULD DRINK YOUR PISS LIKE CHAMPAGNE!!!"
She wa absoluteley fucking appalled. Her mum phoned up next week to say she had found another job.
Aww fuck it! You win some you lose some.
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Originally Posted by Tom 
