by Kimi Goodrich
Priscilla was a bit of a buttoned up girl, nothing about her life shouted excitement (or whispered it for that matter), she never thought twice about everyone still calling her Prissy at the age of 34, in fact, she didn’t even realize the irony of the name befitting her to a tee. She had a stable job working in the office of a prestigious private school in NYC, where her days bled into each other, her routine carved in a stone she etched out for herself when she was 21, however on this particular day, she was given the task of riding the subway uptown in the middle of the afternoon to meet with a young teacher her school was interested in hiring. She walked through the station, waited patiently for her train to come, preparing in her head for the interview ahead while she walked through the doors of the subway car, found a seat, smoothed down her skirt before she sat, crossed her legs at her ankles and placed her briefcase neatly in her lap. It was in this moment when she came to the realization that she was the only one in the subway car, she glanced up and down the car, noting that no one was holding onto the pole in the middle, when an idea which elicited an illicit thought popped into her head. Sliding her briefcase into the seat next to her, she took a deep breath, took off the blazer of her plain muted toned suit and placed it on top of her briefcase while glancing both ways to ensure that she really was alone before standing up and walking over to the pole. With a spark in her eyes that she could only feel, she hiked up her skirt just a bit before vaulting onto the pole and swinging fiercely around it like she imagined a go go dancer in a strip club would, she worked that pole like it was going to pay her rent, swinging around with her head hanging back, she felt unlike herself, liberated and slightly risqué for those brief seconds before she dismounted, smoothed down her skirt before she sat, put her blazer back on, crossed her legs at her ankles and placed her briefcase neatly back in her lap.
6S
Kimi Goodrich, author of My Closet, is an anomaly. Someone once told her anomalous women were more interesting.