* * * * * * * *
It's been a while since I wrote in this. I didn't date the last entry, so I'm not sure. Could be a couple of years. Well, the last thing I'd done was to destroy the black tights. I was really good about keeping tights out of my mind. I still haven't had a steady girl friend. I've dated a little, but no sparks. One girl was into me, but she wasn't as pretty as I wanted. I'm in love with Farrah Fawcett. Lee Majors is so damned lucky! I have several posters of Farrah in my room. Anyway, it kind of makes it difficult finding lesser girls attractive. I should probably take down the posters.
Anyway, I don't know how it happened, but I got weak about tights. I saw this girl wearing a nice dark red pair of tights and they looked so terrific. And then she took one of her shoes off and started rubbing her foot. It wasn't like her foot was in pain; it was more like she just liked caressing her tights clad foot. She rolled her foot around in a circle, over and over... it was kind of hypnotic. I stared. And then I sensed something, raising my head up to look, and she caught me starting at her foot. She kind of gave me a half-smile. I quickly looked away in embarrassment. When I looked back she wasn't looking my way any longer and put her shoe back on. She was standing in a check-out line just one over from where I was. Her line sped up while mine slowed down. She checked out and started heading towards the exit. And then she looked my way for a moment, with no smile. I looked at her, then she looked away and left. Wow did she look good in those red tights. If I'd been brave enough, I'd have left the line and ran to catch up with her. But what would I say? "Hey, nice red tights you're wearing!" Right.
