judith walked past him without a glint of recognition and pulled a stack of records from a horizontal cubby in the bamboo shelving and dropped them onto the spindle of the record player. she swung the thin metal arm over the discs and began her plan to pack. the chump was indignant that this plan did not revolve around him, so he promptly marched to the back corner of the room, opened the flimsy brown door and closed it behind him. he wasn't coming out until she regained her senses.
judith didn't even notice. she was empowered. she was a woman. she had been triggered into a new realm of self-discovery. she proceeded to do what any woman in this state would do.
as the music kicked on, she kicked off her heels and stepped up on to the bed as if stepping on to a stage. all of a sudden, she became aware of the curtains parted across the front of her somber brown-and-burnt-orange late-70's styled bedroom and the ghostly audience sitting in the dark before her.
she looked straight through them as she pulled up the hem of her long, black skirt revealing thigh high hose and garter belts. she reached the top of her right leg and snapped the button loose. if only the chump could see her now. wouldn't he be sorry to be missing this? it was a whole new judith.
as she lowered herself to sit on the bed, her white blouse slid off to reveal a tight-fitting satin and mesh chemise in a fleshy peach tone. the audience was shocked. they couldn't believe the powers-that-be would give the go-ahead for judith to expose her nipples through the chemise. but there they were and judith new it. her sheepishness and uncertainty were replaced by a devilish smile as she looked down and then swiveled her eyes back up to the peopled darkness before her.
as if on cue, her supporting cast of females from the go-go's streamed in from the hallway and laid in rows head to foot in front of her. what else was left? it was time for a titillating cabaret routine of partially naked bodies rolling in sync to the music.
the chump was really missing out.
i suppose that's what i get for watching the last three minutes of an early who's the boss? episode yesterday and pondering tony's future ability to see the always-overdressed prim-and-proper cover-it-all-up-with-shoulder-pads angela as a sex symbol.