My Fair Cappie

I went out on a few more dates with Gwen, my favorite Captain America fan. Our last date was to a local comic book convention, and I refused under any circumstances to dress up like her beloved super hero. We settled on my wearing a hat and T-shirt with his logo on it. Afterward, I took her to see Mads. He was far from impressed. I had to get her away from him before he mentioned our wager in front of her. When I returned from walking her back to her apartment, Mads reminded me of the time I said very plainly that I could make any uncouth woman into the most chic person at any party. It was time to put up or shut up.

I had started the ball rolling before our meeting with Mads by having a line of baby doll shirts made with different Captain America insignia on them, and she seemed to take to them. She was a little put off by how much skin was revealed, but couldn't deny how amazing she looked: she had a great stomach, and the shirt accentuated that.

I told her the next day that I needed to run an errand at Neiman Marcus, and she said she'd love to join me. After picking out a Dolce and Gabbana polo for myself, I brought her over to the women's section. She was hesitant, and the sign saying the woman's section was closed added to her hesitancy. I explained to her that those signs never applied to me, and with the way I was treated by the workers there, she didn't see any reason to argue with me. The first thing we did was shoot over to the shoe section, where I picked out a pair of Prada calf-length spike-heeled black boots. She tried them on, and then pulled the legs of the men's jeans she was wearing over them. She stood up, and I almost died. She looked that good. I almost forgot she was wearing frumpy men's jeans, they looked so good. Things got hairy, though, when a sales associate approached us.

"Hello, how are you?" She said. "Are you why we had to close the section down? Let me guess, you're doing one of those make-over shows. Where's the camera crew? Let me tell you girl, you are in good hands with this guy."

"Make-over? Are you trying to change the way I look? Is there something wrong with the way I dress? I happen to like my clothes."

"I'm not trying to change you, homegirl. I'm just trying to add some versatility to your footwear closet. Guys's sneakers work if you're hanging around the house or going to the grocery store, but those... those are like POW!"

"I thought this area was supposed to be closed," a woman's voice said.

"It's okay, Jen," a men's voice responded.

We turned, and saw Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner. We did our introductions, and Ben explained to Jen that when they closed Neiman Marcus, or any other store in Boston, it didn't apply to me. Gwen stared at them in awe, and nodded unconsciously when the sales associate asked her if she wanted the boots.

"So, how you been, Ben?" I said.

"Not bad, an' you?"

"Can't complain. I saw they really blasted you in GQ again."

"Yeah, and they'll probably have me on the cover after I make another movie."

I laughed. "Yeah, and dressed like a fisherman with a $2600 wool sweater on."

Ben and Jen joined in on the laughing. "Or like a construction worker," he said. "With a $150 D Squared hat and a $450 Hermes towel to wipe my construction worker sweat off with."

We all laughed at that, and Gwen chuckled uncomfortably. Needless to say, I had no trouble getting her to wear whatever I wanted to after that, or getting her hair done, and we went out to dinner with Mads the next night. He paid.