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Carson was feeling…blah as she walked down the street in front of their apartment. Nothing bad had happened, but honestly neither had anything good.
Just morning coffee, topped off with her favorite cereal, and enough hot water in the shower to feel a little like home.
Their 3-year-old bulldog circled around her feet as she got ready for work, gave her joyful, sloppy kisses before she walked out of the house to face the world.
As they now stood at the corner, waiting to be signaled to walk, they placed their hand in their pocket, absentmindedly wondering what adventures would await them in the cubby sized universe.
There, at the tip of her fingers, she felt plastic. A feeling of joy flooded her system before she’d even pulled it out. For she finally knew…today was going to be a good day.
Pulling the treasure of excitement from their pocket, they discovered this bounty was filled with mozzarella sticks. The perfect break snack for when they got to work.
As they looked up, assuming the day couldn’t get any better, they saw her. Bright red hair, hour glass figure, legs for days, with the nerve to be wearing heels that Carson desperately wanted to be wrapped around their waist.
And wonder of all wonders, she was looking at Carson too. She was walking towards Carson. She was now talking to Carson.
“Hey Chickadee! What’s your name?” She said with a slight smirk in her smile and voice that it should be criminal.
“Shaw. Carson Shaw.”
Then the beautiful giantess had the nerve to laugh. And Carson felt it in parts of their body they’d forgotten existed for months.
“Do you always introduce yourself like that? Like a 007 agent or something?”
“Only around pretty ladies who make me nervous and brave.” Carson replied.
The goddess of Jack in the beanstalk’s worst nightmares, stopped laughing and gave Carson a smile that she knew she would remember for the rest of her days.
“Well you’re no fun,” she teased. “I can’t tease you for that answer now.”
Carson looked up at her with love-struck eyes, a dopey grin, with her head cocked to the side, as if trying to make sure she didn’t miss any movement on that gorgeous face.
“Give me your number.”
“Ok,” Carson obeyed. Then realized, she didn’t even know her fantasy’s name. “What is your name and can I have your number?”
“Yes,” the living embodiment of Athena replied. She giggled before finally revealing the name that would make Carson’s morning bright from now on, “My name is Greta Gill.”
As they parted ways, the adult world being cruel enough to interrupt this moment, Carson smiled as brightly as the Empire State Building.
They now knew for certain, today was definitely going to be a good day. As is any day with mozzarella sticks and Greta Gill in it.