I Could Be Anyone

Looking around the shop, there were so many pairs of gloves to choose from. Different colours, styles, fabrics, and possibilities. Some were delicately laid across a table, others were pinned up against the wall; they reminded me of my ex-boyfriend. Finding the right pair for me was important.
        "Is it true what they say about these gloves? That you can become anyone you want when you wear a pair?" I asked.
        The sales assistant rolled her eyes at me. She must've thought I've never come shopping for wearable technology before, which was only partly true; I'd never seen the appeal, not until now.
        "They’re gloves are enablers, sir.”
        “Like placebos?”
        She peered over her black, horn-rimmed glasses. “No, no. They release hormones into the body that assist you depending on the type of gloves you buy. For instance," she walked to the table and picked up a pair of grey gloves, her heels echoing around the shop, "these ones help with concentration."
        "Okay."
        She kept showing me various pairs of gloves and explained to me what each of them would help me with. She was really helpful, but I wasn't listening; I was distracted by the portrait of a man on the wall. He looked strong, intelligent, and confident. He reminded me of my shortfalls, the flaws my ex-boyfriend pointed out before he left. If I could be like this man, then maybe things would change.

I Could Be Anyone

        Silence. The sales assistant touched my arm lightly. Her eyes were wide, as if she were reading every inch of my body and mind. "I know exactly what you need."
        She climbed a step stool and unlocked a glass cabinet high above the till. She retrieved a pair of royal blue gloves and brought them over to me. They looked like they were made from leather.
        "Now, these are expensive, but I’m certain they'll do the trick. Why don’t you try them on?"
        I slipped the gloves on and already I felt like a different person. They fit my hands so well, as if they were designed just for me. The world seemed a little brighter and I stood a little taller, a little straighter. Imagine what I could do once these gloves really get to work. I could be the man my ex-boyfriend always wanted me to be, the man I always wanted to be: I could be anyone.
        "There's a price to pay, you know," the assistant distracted me from my dizzy fantasy.
        I followed her back to the till, still wearing the gloves. Everything would be great from now on, everything would be different. I could have everything I wanted, be anything I wanted, even the man in the portrait if I wanted to.
        I paid far more for the gloves than I’d budgeted, but I knew it was worth it. On my way out of the shop, I glanced at the portrait of the man one more time. He wasn't wearing any gloves.