In a Moment's Notice (WIP)

Women's

Leslie slammed the bathroom door and burst into tears. She caught a glimpse of herself in the cabinet mirror and cried even louder. Her hair was dusted with gray, Her face wore dark sunspots on her forehead, cheeks and nose, and Yellow teeth adorned her once beautiful smile. Laugh lines crept around the corners of her yes and mouth. Where had her youthful appearance gone? After inspecting her face, she suddenly became angry. Why does the world value youth? And the youthful look? What’s wrong with men? Why can’t they appreciate experience? She hated Playboy and sex reality shows on HBO. Everything focused on the man; his wants and desires. Maybe women would feel more sexual if the world focused on their desires! She pulled herself together and walked out, wiping the wetness from the corners of her eyes.

As she drove to work, John’s words kept popping into her mind. “Not tonight Leslie, I’ve got meetings all day with a huge proposal due in the morning. Maybe later in the week. Or Saturday nigh” Why did she always have to be the one to ask and then get scheduled in. What kind of crap was that? . Marriage plagued with long-term complexities to lengthy to explain. Sex, on the rare occasion it occurred, was quick, stale, and felt more like a chore. A very disappointing reality pill for her to swallow. Her parents were still together after forty-eight years of marriage. How did they do it? Fight the boredom or loss of excitement. Maybe these things were only happening to her. It was hard to tell, since most of her friends had been through divorces and were now in second marriages. Asking someone in the same boat as her wasn’t an opportunity that presented itself.

Once, a few years ago, out of sheer frustration, she had asked her mother, “Mom, what’s it like with you and dad?” Her mother ignored the question and Leslie persisted, “Mom, I’m serious. Mine stinks. It’s stunk for a very long time. Long enough that I’m beginning to realize it’s not just a stinky stage! Do I have a light at the end of the tunnel here? I mean, what am I supposed to do?” Leslie’s frustrated tone grew a little louder. “I’m asking for help, woman to woman.”

Her mother, famous for avoiding inappropriate subjects, pattered her daughter’s arm. “I really don’t know what to tell you dear. Some people are able to maintain a certain level of satisfaction. I’m not one of those people. For me, it was about acceptance, forgiveness, and finding new interests. Why do you think I volunteer so much? Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold”.

Fuck men. Who needs them? If they want skinny teenagers, then they could have them. Pulling into her parking space she turned off the ignition and sat for a moment, letting her anger subside before getting out. God she couldn’t take these instant moments of anger. What was wrong with her anyway? ‘Nothing!” She practically yelled. She got out, slammed her door and briskly walked past a group of co-workers hanging out in the parking lot. One of them whistled at her. Turning her head, she saw it was Alex, a thirty-two year old sales rep, sharp dresser and chaser of anything in a skirt. “Fuck you Alex!” Not Leslies’ usual polite response.

A collective ‘Whooaa.” Erupted from the men standing in Alex’s circle. Leslie didn’t stick around for further comments. Alex was bold and very cute. A lethal combination on most girls’ resistance. Had Leslie met Alex ten years ago, she would have been one of his many conquests. He boldly flirted with her, both knowing there would be no fruits to that labor.

Disgusted with the world, and men in particular, she poked her finger on the up button of the elevator. Riding up to the fourteenth floor, she made a decision. Stop being angry and take action. The problem was, what action? She’d compile a list at her desk when she got there. For now, she mentally began formulating. A trip to the dermatologist, a membership at the gym, maybe even liposuction. Nah, men weren’t worth THAT much. She felt better already. Writing it down was key though. If she didn’t get past the mental stage, implementation wouldn’t happen.

“Well, I’m doing it again.” She said as she sat down next to Vickie in the break room. Everyone headed to get coffee before even picking up his or her To Do Lists.

“Doing what?” Vickie asked, smacking her gum. Counting on her fingers she continued, “Writing your ‘I’m divorcing you speech? Telling Walt to kiss your ass? Locking your teenager in the basement? Kicking the dog? What? Leslie? What are you doing again? Leslie loved Vickie’s sarcasm.

“No, Sorry to disappoint you but I’m not getting divorced, turning in my two weeks, or locking Juliana or Dalton in the basement, although all sound like perfect ways to start my agenda. No. I’m going on a diet. I want to lose twenty pounds.”

“Good, I’ll help you, pass me your chocolate doughnut over there will ya sweetie?”

“Let’s do lunch at Jason’s, I’ll eat soup and salad, and tell you my new plan.” Leslie picked up the doughnut, brought it to her lips, and inhaled the beautiful chocolate aroma, than practically tossed it to Vickie.

. “To psychologically debilitating. Plus, now there’s more of me to love.”

“Oh, ya got a plan? She said, shoving a huge bite into her mouth. “Goodie. I’m all ears. Lunch. At Jason’s. Hope that hot waiter, Keith is there.” Vickie licked icing off her fingers. “I love that eye candy.” On her way out the door, she heard Vickie mumble something about diets being too psychologically debilitating. Plus, the bigger she was…

Leslie didn’t expect to make herself look twenty years younger, or even five years younger over night. She just wanted to care about herself again. Then, maybe John would. She pulled out a scrap piece of paper and wrote down her goals and jotted the date at the top right corner. June 12, 2004. She was feeling better already.