School Shopping Cowboy

By oh y'know.that girl

Back to school shopping was a blast! I loved the brightly colored 24-packs of assorted colored crayons and markers that my smaller siblings would probably use to tattoo my skin while I slept. If you haven’t been drenched in my sarcasm then you must be a fellow cynic. Thank the heavens! I thought I was alone.

Mother dearest had come up with the brilliant idea of early morning school shopping. I wanted nothing more than to bludgeon her with the calculator and the three ring binder she’d set in the shopping cart as she dragged me around the store with the two brats. I had a plan. I’d throw the calculator at her and then slide away on the brightly colored binder. Oh yea, James Bond, step aside brother, I claim the title of Mr. Cool-oh wait…he he, Ms. Cool!

I’d managed to abandon my mother in the composition notebook frenzy and was now in a costume aisle. I grinned and grabbed a white boa before slipping on a bright silver dress with a matching wig. I grabbed a pair of oversized sunglasses and was just about to scare some toddler shitless when I heard someone wolf whistle. I spun around to see a guy decked out in cowboy gear. He had the plastic holsters around his waist and held his two index fingers out along with his thumbs as imaginary revolvers. I laughed and watched as he blew on them.

“Nice,” I replied.

“Oh Sugar, you flatter me,” he replied grinning devilishly.

“You got a name?” I asked.

“Call me Cowboy,” he said in mock seriousness.

I nodded as if it made perfect sense and offered him my hand daintily. He laughed at that and took it anyway.

“I’ll call you, Silver Princess,” he added.