A Shell of A Man

I was gobsmacked to see a very agitated Barbara Sheelings at my door. I was lost for words, I began to perspire... I certainly wasn't dressed for any visitors. I was wearing an embarrassingly old torn dressing gown. I looked like a hobo, nothing like her 'man'.

"Hi. I'm Babs. I live across the hall. You have my mail" she impatiently held out her hand.

"Oh right, I'm sorry... I, I, I was just on my way to give it to you" I frantically started shuffling through all of my mail to get to hers.

"Why didn't you just slide it under my door?" she said

"I'm so sorry Ms Sheelings, really." Nervously, I handed her the mail.

"You know my name?..... Have you been reading my mail?" she asked

"No! No! Nothing like that! No! I just read your.... to see who's mail it was. Oh god! I'm sorry. I didn't know, I don't know what to call you." I was babbling, rambling on.

Clearly, she thought it was charming. "Just call me Babs kid."

I wondered why she called me kid. I certainly was no kid. I was in my early 30's for Christ sake. No one had called me 'kid' since I was 19.

"Sure, I will" I said.

Babs smiled at me and walked off

"Bye-bye" I called out.

God! I was so goofy, so pathetic. I had no idea she found it so amusing.

Of course, I thought about her and fantasized about her the rest of the week. Excess masturbation is unhealthy, especially when you base your whole day around it. I was letting my work slide just because I was eager to get home and 'rub one out to her'.

The following week, I was checking my mail, oblivious to my surroundings. That's when I heard, "hey kid!"

Anxiously, I turned around to look at her. To my surprise, she was clinging to yet another man: this man was clearly younger, yet he was arrogant and cocky. They were a perfect match.

"err, hi Babs... how are...." My voice trailed off as they walked on by, passing me. It was almost as if she didn't even care. I could've sworn her date chuckled at me as I fumbled with my words.