I know this is a bit long, but bare with me.
Last week, I was in a pizzeria in town (I live in a suburb of Adelaide, South Australia, you see. Does every city in the world have the same effect? Where the suburban areas simply refer to the nearest capital as "In Town" or "The City". I wouldn't know, I've never lived anywhere else) and I saw Kym Dillon walking in. Now for those that don't know, Kym Dillon is a news presenter for Adelaide's National Nine News. About the biggest sort of celebrity we get down here, really. I was still standing around deciding what I wanted, so I decided to be the gentleman and let Kym go ahead of me. Despite my hospitality, I still got my pizza first, so I went and sat down at the only free table nearby. It was pretty busy, and it didn't look like there were any others around. I felt like such a dork, though, at the time. I could have said something nice, or witty, or anything at all for that matter, but instead I grinned nervously and offered a spot ahead of me in line. Ugh.
So anyway, here I was, sitting down during my lunch break enjoying my barbecue chicken pizza and mumbling to myself in a self-pitying manner about some of the paperwork that had to be filed when I got back. At the time, I was working as a receptionist at a solicitor's office. Mostly just paper pushing, arranging appointments and so on. This must have taken the forefront in my mind, because next thing I know, Kym was standing in front of me with a ham and pineapple pizza, asking if the seat was taken! Apparently I seemed the most appealing choice to sit with in the room. I couldn't believe it. Kym Dillon, man, Kym Dillon! This was my chance to prove to myself that I wasn't a complete flounder when it came to transcending social barriers.
The thought struck me immediately that Kym probably had people all day sucking up, begging to do this favour or that, fetching the other for approval. It seemed only logical that I act a little dismissive. I said something about a free country and pushed the seat out. The conversation was a little stilted to begin with, but surprisingly enough, for the most part it wasn't me doing the talking. We chatted about our interests, and they seemed fairly in line with each other. It really does go to show that social boundaries aren't quite as difficult to breach as one might imagine.
It was at this point that I was surprised to find soft, snowy-white hands pushing a tax invoice with a phone number scrawled delicately over it across the table toward me. I tried to pick it up nonchalantly, but ended up just fiddling with it on the lacquered surface. Incidentally, it was at that point that I vowed to stop chewing my nails. I looked up, and was met with the award winning smile I'd fallen for all those nights ago on television. Pastel lips, pearly white teeth and the cutest little dimples, oh my!
I was flustered! I excused myself and headed to the men's room to calm my nerves. I looked back as I entered, and caught Kym sending a lovely smile my way. I felt the rouge rising in my cheeks, and almost walked into the previous occupant. This was amazing! The best moment in my life, I would go so far to say. I splashed some water on my face to cool down, and persuaded myself that I didn't just hear someone knock on the door. As I looked up, a shocking reflection stared me back. Kym!
"You shouldn't be in here," I said, now noting the occupied lever I had disregarded. Before the thoughts could coalesce in my mind, I had soft, tender lips meeting my own. Nimble fingers aptly releasing the buttons from my stuffy, cotton shirt. I felt a soft vibration as the zipper was lowered across a pair of expensive polyester slacks. I trembled to reach down and touch the object of my rushed desire. I knelt down, looked up at Kym and as he smiled, the pure force of the ejaculate forced my head against the wash basin.
He redressed briskly and left, tossing back a casual gesture and the statement that I probably shouldn't bother calling that number. I was crushed, left bleeding from the scapula in the bathroom stall, covered head to toe in a translucent goo.
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