Clothes Maketh The Man — Part 45.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I received the text from Devina, though it wasn’t what I was expecting. Nothing about Devina was what was to be expected. I was to meet her at The West Hills Golf And Country Club.

While I’d not played golf in years I’d made quite a good name for myself at university regularly falling in the top few of the local tournaments. I knew West Hills pretty well, even that tricky water hazard on the third. I could regularly birdie that hole. It would be fun to play there. See Devina made my heart skip a beat. I felt quite giddy at the thought of her.

One has to remember that although her behaviour toward me could be considered cruel, spiteful and humiliating, perhaps that was just her way of expressing closeness. I reminded myself that, even in that cold hearted bitchy way of hers, there was probably a soft heart buried beneath that hard exterior. Very well buried, I admit, but perhaps it was there.

As I drove out toward the club I reflected on how I might shift the way in which Devina perceived me. Here I was in a comfortable pastel lambs wool sweater, a long pleated skirt and stockings, wanting her to find me more attractive. If I could only change her view of me I felt sure I could change the way she related to me. Perhaps the answer was to take make an effort to be more assertive. I felt that if she…