Wish It

"Okay Genie," I pointed at a girl at the counter of a Hot Topic clothing outlet. She was adjusting a set of jeans hanging from the wall, on her tiptoes. That body? 'Twas a feast. "I drove us out here for one thing. Make her bend over."

In my studious field observations I nearly ran into a phone stall. Genie tsk'd as I rubbed my forearm and walked around a glaring crow eyed woman. "Come now." He swiftly dodged the human traffic, which I still was getting used to seeing. It seemed more like they were all dodging him, actually. "That's not how this works."

Relenting, I mutter, "Okay. I wish she would bend ove -- "

When a pair of butt cheeks, denim-covered and tight nevertheless, stared back at me instantly afterward, I popped a slight boner. There. There it was! Through the fabric of her pants, her two divine seat warmers pushed. And she wasn't just giving it the half-mast, or 180, either. She had dropped her back all the way forward, solely to pick up a pesky tanktop that had fallen to the ground, instead of kneeling or crouching for it. It was almost akin to a wiggly toe touch exercise that also looked mildly unwieldy.

It was probably a near minute of staring that I indulged in when I abruptly, self-consciously froze. Looking around, I sighed in relief. No one noticed.

I frowned, contemplatively.

Noticed what? That I had a genie, a mystical being only visible to me, walking at my side, asking me to make wishes as I saw fit?

THEY were all normal people. THEY didn't know a thing. I was pulling the strings here!

I waved a hand. "This way." Beckoning for Genie to follow, we headed into the store.

"Hi, welcome," came the chirpy voice of sweet customer-oriented minimum wage grinding.

The girl, topped with a brunette bob and who'd turned back to greet us, gracefully straightened. Her buxom ass only spent a second or two in that bent over position upon our entering, and I would have lamented if I wasn't already buzzing from seeing that wish from earlier come true and knowing she'd bent over only because of me. But that was only a minor request. It still could have been largely coincidental, and I wanted to poke the sleeping giant.

"I wish everything in this store was free," I whispered, "for me and me only."

Now time to peruse the catalogue. I traveled to the back of the store and surveyed the pickings. Grabbing a hat and hoodie, I mumbled to Genie, "You know, it would be nice if something... I don't know. Signaled it."

Genie looked at me quizzically. I tried to ignore the sombrero he'd lobbed onto his head as he tried on a pair of hiking boots. Frantically I looked around, but no one seemed to notice. "Such as?"

"I don't know." For a professional genie, this guy was exceptionally laidback. "Sparkles? A tingle in the air? A booming voice from the heavens saying, 'WISH GRANTED'?"

He just laughed and slapped my back. "You mortals crack the funniest jokes."

When we made it back to the register, I placed all the stuff on the counter and took out my wallet. Only for the girl, (whose nametag read 'Cathy'), to show her hands in a courteous way of saying what-a-funny-misunderstanding. "Oh, no no." Sliding them back, she typed some things on the computer and as a receipt began printing out looked at me. "You don't have to pay us anything, mister. For you, everything in this store is on the house."

I don't know why, but my boner popped again, and I groaned.

"E-everything?" I stammered.

After affirming my suspicions, she placed the clothes in a bag, not a single dollar spent. "Have a nice day, sir," one hand stretched out to me. I stared at the hand. Hers may have been fine. Mine, on the other 'hand', was trembling like a roasting marshmallow stick in Antarctica. I didn't even feel it when Genie nudged my rib.

"Told ya so."

A splendorous gleam furrowing through my eyes, I swung my head up and propped my chest towards the heavens above and a hurricane came through.

Go with it, bud.

"HEY, HOT BITCH, ya know what time it is? It's time for me to go Tasmanian devil on your ass right here, right now!"

The totally-wet counter chick opened her mouth to speak up. Then snorted. "Oh, really?"

A few moments later, glaring at Genie as he slurped on an ice cream cone, I decided to punch him in the arm, but missed. I didn't actually miss, but he turned semi-transparent, cheating pumpkin eating asshole.

"Hey."

Slurp.

"HEY!"

Finally. The urban myth in the flesh abruptly stopped his makeout sesh, turning to look at me. "Huh?"

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Why didn't it work, dude?!"

"Huh?"

Nearly crashing into another phone stall thing wasn't helping my disposition. I ignored the giggles of a group of girls in the corner. "Look, I just got the shit slapped out of me and hey, guess what, now I don't need a fucking enema!"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "you were a real douche back there."

"B-b-b-but you said! You said you wouldn't game me! You said, 'Extra options,' and I was like, 'Extra options,', and you were like, you know!?"

Genie wrinkled his brow, drawing his tongue back from his precious ice cream. "I said I'd grant you wishes. You wished for everything in that store to be free for you and only you. You never wished to be able to go Tasmanian devil on that girl's ass."

"Yeah, well," I shifted shoulders, "you coulda had my back at least!"

"I could have," he seemed to spend a second mulling it over, then shook his head, "but that's not in the job description." As Genie talked, I narrowed my eyes. Was that ice cream cone... replenishing itself? "Besides, I am actually only limited to three wishes a day, so I figured you may have wanted to preserve one for later."

Wait. What did he just say?

"What did you just say?"

He repeated the thing about the three wishes, then went back to his evening appetizer. Meanwhile, I slapped my face with the palm of my hand, and forward-slumped. Let it sting.

Damn it. Damn it Genie. I kicked a stray energy drink can by my foot. It hit a little girl in the ankle as we passed through the exit doors and she began to cry. I sighed.

"Damn it, I wish she'd just drop it."

The next second was one of peace and quiet. Then, widening my eyes, I realized what I'd done. I promptly swiveled my head to the side.

"What?" Genie returned my dead stare with a look of contrived cluelessness as I threw another slugger at him and hit the wall instead. Mooing like a baby cow, or calf, whatever you call them, in a warped guttural utterance I was not aware I had in me, I thought of the life I once knew. Before magic lamps. Before genies ever existed. Basically, before two hours ago.

He offered me some leftover ice cream on the way home. A minor gesture, but not nothing, at the least. 'No germs,' he said, being that his biological makeup differed from our cellular anatomy, since he was a partially a-mortal non-corporeal entity or whatever. Yeah. Better not be.

I was hungry as shit and -- oh SNAP...

This ice cream cone really was replenishing itself! What the balls!!?

...

Hell yeah!

Hit it, Sting!