The Hunchback of Neiman Marcus

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Authors: Sonya Sones
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one of us
    makes a move
    to press the button
    that would hold them open.

I FEEL AS IF I’M IN A DREAM
    The doors slip closed,
    like the velvet curtains
    of a confessional.
    We
    are completely
    alone.
    As we begin
    our ascent,
    Griffin turns to gaze at me.
    I don’t know
    which is rising faster—
    the elevator or my blood pressure.
    We pass the second floor…
    the third floor…
    the fourth floor…
    And then, without warning, we jolt
    to a halt between the fourth
    and fifth floors!

I GASP AND STIFLE A SCREAM
    My knees
    nearly buckle
    as a slow smile
    spreads across Griffin’s face—
    a smile
    that somehow makes me feel
    like he’s the wolf
    and I’m Little Red Riding Hood.
    Or maybe I’m the wolf!
    Or… shit! Maybe I’m the grandmother…
    Oh, I don’t know.
    It’s all so confusing…
    Griffin strokes his chin, studying me.
    Then he cocks his head to the side,
    points a slender finger at me, and asks,
    â€œIs someone a little claustrophobic…?”
    And a split
    second later—
    the lights flicker,
    sizzle,
    and go out!

“SOMEONE” IS A LOT CLAUSTROPHOBIC!
    But that’s the least of my troubles.
    I am so lit with terror and temptation,
    I’m surprised I’m not glowing in the dark.
    â€œI’m…fine,” I manage to squeak.
    A faint red emergency button
    pulses on the wall next to me,
    like the dim tip
    of a cigarette,
    barely casting enough light
    for me to make out
    Griffin’s silhouette
    as he takes a step closer to me.
    I scramble to press the button.
    Nothing happens.
    I press it again…Nothing.
    â€œDamn it!” I hiss.
    â€œAre you okay?” Griffin asks in a throaty voice.
    â€œNo! I am not okay!” I say,
    struggling to catch my breath.
    â€œThere are so many reasons I am not okay…”
    â€œDon’t worry,” he murmurs, “I’m right here…”
    â€œI know!” I say, “That’s one of the reasons!”
    And I guess he thinks that’s pretty funny,
    because all of a sudden—
    he’s chuckling.

AND AS SOON AS I HEAR IT
    That please-God-make-it-stop
    chuckle of his—
    so shrill, so earsplitting,
    so divinely ardor-dampening,
    my path
    becomes blazingly clear:
    if I want to be able
    to resist Griffin’s charms
    I am going to have to keep him
    chuckling.

SO…
    Grasping at straws,
    I tell him one of the cheesy jokes
    the cabbie told me
    in the taxi on the way over here—
    the one about
    what the doctor says
    to the invisible man in his waiting room:
    â€œSorry. I can’t see you now.”
    Amazingly, this totally cracks him up!
    So I tell him the one about the nurse
    who tiptoes past the medicine cabinet because
    she doesn’t want to wake the sleeping pills.
    And the one about
    what one doctor says to the other doctor
    when they greet each other in the hall:
    â€œYou are fine. How am I?”
    But then,
    while I’m wracking my brain
    to remember more of the cabbie’s jokes—
    Griffin. Stops. Chuckling.

AND THAT’S WHEN I NOTICE IT
    That’s when I notice
    the delicious woodsy scent
    of his aftershave…
    pine…
    and spice…and smoke…
    and rum…
    and… oh, geez!
    He smells exactly
    like Peter Levine—
    the boy
    I had an obsessive crush on
    in ninth grade!

GRIFFIN’S SILHOUETTE GLIDES CLOSER
    â€œI love a woman
    with a good sense of humor,” he says.
    I tell him my husband does too. But this does not deter him.
    He comes closer…
    And closer still…
    And, suddenly,
    Griffin’s hands are on my shoulders!
    â€œAw…” he says. “You’re shaking…
    You are claustrophobic.”
    My heart’s beating so fast
    it could win a world’s record.
    â€œYou need a hug…” Griffin says.
    â€œCome here…”
    He starts to wrap
    his arms around me.
    And it would be
    so easy…
    so easy to just let myself
    melt into

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