Rumblings from the day.....
I guess I picture myself somewhere right between Lyle Lovette and Alec Baldwin. (I know, what was Julia thinking?)....
You've read of my pathetic search for "her".... and I'm certain it's fodder for insomnia....
Why, why, why am I occasionally "of interest" by those who already gotta man?
Two things come from that..... #1 "Oh YES, what's it gonna hurt, who will know" and "howinthehell do I tell you I agree to sucha thing."...... and finally, #2 sinks in: No way Jose. It's real flattering, but I can't.
Wednesday, lunchtime. Same chickies I eat lunch with every day. "Hey Marla... run to my car and get my divorce papers off the visor... I ain't seen 'em yet... we can share."
So she does..... we read thru.... and I haven't the foggiest answer as to why, but Marla, some 14 years my junior (Married with children) has always sent those signals that ain't misleading....... They are very forward. "She's gotta be nuts to leave you." Wow. So comfortable, so uneasy, all in one sentence.
Tonight at the bar... GOT-DANDRUFF!-SOME-OF-IT-ITCHES (Said quickly, sounds like GD Son-of-a), DID HE GO TO THE BAR AGAIN TONIGHT?... Yes, I'm sorry... It was Friday, payday, I was lonely, there were to be five-to-six 20-something rats in the living room at my normal arrival time at home - so, I needed a respite.
Shuffleboard. I play shuffleboard. It's a great way to meet people, and I've discovered I ain't half-damn bad at it. Sidney, a petite late 30-something chicky, and I have "funly" hooked up on the same team the last several times I've been to local watering hole. All-the-while her live-in (as many years senior to her as I am)sits at the bar - he doesn't like/play shuffleboard.
Shuffleboard, like life, is all about high's and low's. When Sidney, or I, have a high and score 3 or more points - she runs to me.. I ALWAYS look to see whereinthehell her BF's eyes are - always glued to the TV straight ahead.. .and she in so many physical actions tells me (jumping on toppa, backing up to, high five-ing/rubbing) "if we were alone, I'd take your clothes off in a heartbeat.. I wanna I wanna I wanna."
Tis kinda hard to concentrate on the game at this point. It's a good feel and a bad feel. And a feel that cries out "WHERE ARE YOU?"
To all of you I ask....... If you are hit on by someone who's "taken", is it a good feel when someone expresses interest? If you are too GD moral like me... You're nice, and you point them in the direction of partner "A" (but, draw some comfort in the fact they indicated interest).
Do you have,forever etched in your brain, something someone has once said to you about your character? Back in the dinosaur days... I worked in this Sporting Good's Store. The female partner repeatedly told me "YOU NEED TO READ THE BOOK "LOOKING OUT FOR #1". Mebbe she was right, I ain't never read it.
BEFORE YOU FORGET WE ARE TALKING ABOUT "THOSE TAKEN" BEING FORWARD, MAKING THOSE "NOT TAKEN" UNCOMFY...... lemme tellya two quick Sporting Good's Store stories.
#1.... Two guys walk in... Brothers. Brother A says "I'd like to buy Brother B a trophy for the "hole-in-one" he just got at Claycrest Country Club."... "Well SURE, we can do something up.... but lemme ask... doesn't the course give you anything when that happens?"...... "Ahm, yes, I guess they do.... but we snuck on the course, so we couldn't tell the guys at the desk."
$2... Belive it or not, our Sporting Good's Store thrived on swimsuits. I was roughly 23. Blonde, friggin gorgeous, rougly 20, walked in to buy swimsuit. Helped her find her size, mosied up to front register. I have absolutely NO idea why she didn't completely shut dressing room door, but she didn't. Dressing room door had a mirror on it... and back in the days before I even knew whatinthehell a "DD" was, there they were. (Wife, years later, would go on to work with this chicky at a bank... they all laid side bets as to how much her boobies weighed... so... one day, she got the scale out... flopped em out... in excess of 5 lbs each..) Some pictures your brain takes are forever etched. Oink. That one was too.
Back to the continuing saga of "Hey, I'm available, whyinthehell do all of you unavailable women continue to push me to the brink of insanity."
I still don't have a good answer... I've yet to be a piggo too - but I gotta admit, some of them make it pretty damn hard. Maybe it's the after-taste of what happened with "her" that keeps me from being 100% pig. I dunno. Thus far I have.
If you see a rich, 45 year old, crusty old blonde divorcee......... holler, wouldya?
No comments:
Post a Comment