Young, intelligent with impressive experience. Everything I was looking for in a candidate.
But I couldn’t get past the shirt.
A tight white number with shoulder pads and a tapered waist. Blouse seemed more accurate.
I watched him fiddle… fastening and unfastening the top button. He knew he was wearing women’s clothing. And he knew I knew.
Why though? Was it his girlfriend’s? He seemed young to be married.
And how? Did they share a closet? Did he get dressed in the dark?
Then again, if his resume was accurate, he could wear an evening gown for all I care.
The Weekday One Hundred 