We are our own worst enemy

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An ultra short story about how we are our own worst enemy.

On the International Book Fair of Guadalajara, on my way to a meeting, I'm stopped by a young lady with the words: "I want to tell you something and I hope you don't get angry with me". Nothing about her tells me she is not being serious and still, her glance has a streak of mischief. "It depends on what you are going to tell me", it's an answer she's not expecting and a bit nervous she looks at me. "Oh", she says and then follows: "You look very sexy". Now, I will be honest, I'm not an unattractive woman but this is a bit too much 'honesty' for me. "Touch yourself", she says calmly. What?!? The woman grins. "You can get any man you want, a second one if you wish and a lover on top of that…" She lays a hand on my shoulder and this time she says compelling: "Touch yourself until the hem of your dress". Tongue-tied I direct my hands downwards to make the disconcerting discovery that my dress ends at navel height…and for the last 300 meters I've been walking around like that.

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