My (35, M) Fantasy about Being Groped on the Train

It has been a long day at the jewelry store where I am head manager and I am ready to go home. I check my watch, a shiny Rolex: 10:30 pm. Yikes! It is there to represent the company, the watch. We are all supposed to look the part. I bought a shiny new wedding band the day I got this new job as well. It is all part of the brand of a jewelry professional. Never mind that I had to finance the jewelry I wear. Yep, I couldn’t afford them, not even on a jewelry store manager’s salary. The company helped me out. The short trimmed beard, the suit, the financed jewelry. It is all there to represent success, luxury, the company brand.

I check my phone. There is a text from my wife. She wants me to buy some things at the shops. I laugh at myself, but also at my wife. I am a dual citizen (British American) and we and my wife (all American) moved here to England for my career. Jesus, getting her a visa was hard and I have thankfully blacked out much of the memory of that process from my mind. But holy cow, Jenn, what stores do you think are still open? Tesco it is. She says she will text me the list. I lock the door of the store, set the alarm, and head to the train station.