Women want me

I just finished reading my friend's blog, where a young woman expressed an interest in him by flirting with him. He wasn’t quite sure. Amusing that she could not tell he plays for the other team. But then, he flies under the radar.

Amusing still, because there is a time and a place for that.

My friend A, and I were out for dinner with our wives one night. He and I went to the bar for a beer and this good looking woman made a conversational gambit to him. She glanced at his Raiders sweatshirt and said, ‘I thought we didn’t allow you kind in this bar.’ Wonderfully said, nice smile to go with it.’
I rescued him. ‘Excuse me, but they are out of season this time of year.’
As we walked back to our ladies, you could see him just beaming. It nice when someone flirts with you. Kinda says, ‘yes, you’re good looking’. It can make you feel good.

Subtle is nice.

Blatant can be nice to. Like when she came into my room, blonde on blonde, in the pale moonlight; and asked ‘Are you cold?”

If you are single, subtle or blatant, all can be good.

But when someone is married, you might use subtle, if you use anything. But for heavens sake, look at the left hand, before you do something blatantly!

When you ask a married coworker for a ride home, because you don’t want to walk six blocks through the snow; don’t start telling him about you not having a muff. Don’t tell him that your fantasy is to have sex with two guys. (you might have had a chance when he was single)
What does it get you? He will never, ever, give you a ride home, period!

The ring is supposed to mean something! Just assume that the guy is taken, that he is not interested.

And for goodness sake, look for the ring, especially on a coworker!

New Years Eve, at the Hotel, the two waitresses are leaving, heading out for a night on the town. They come over to the front desk and ask for a new years eve kiss. Now I know the protocol, and when the first one leans over, it more a light kiss on the cheek. That’s how it is done.
Not number two! A hand behind my head, lip lock and a tongue snaking down my throat!
Disengage, greetings exchanged and they are out the door.
I just stand there, stunned. ‘Where the fuck did that come from?’

The next day, waitress one tells me the rest of the story. They got outside and she hit waitress two so hard on the arm. ‘You stupid idiot! You just got married six months ago!”
She forgot to check my left hand.
She was so embarrassed, I did not see her for three weeks!

A little flirt, ‘I think you look good’ A little flirt back, ‘You’re rather cute too’. There’re okay. After all, it nice to hear that people like the way you look, it makes you feel good. But there are rules here and you must play by the rules.

Ideas

Sometimes, a little something makes me think. A phrase, a smile, a well-turned leg. I take that little thing, weave a story.
Sometimes, something happens to me. Years go by, I wonder about the incident. Was there a meaning, was there a reason.
And sometimes, I can take a little incident, take that phrase, add the smile, mix them together and I have an interesting little event.

There still may be no meaning, but perhaps there never was.

PERVS 1975,1999
“Sex! That’s all you men have on your minds.”
“You say that like it is a bad thing.”
“Well, we get so tired of it!”
“Oh sure, you’re tired of it now. But what if you’re a 30 year old hottie with short blonde hair? You turn from the bar and see these two 17-year-olds at a table by themselves, quietly having a drink. You’re not wondering what’s on their minds, you’re counting on it! Because you know all you have to do is walk over there, let them buy you a drink and you can take them both home with you. Then it’s suddenly okay, isn’t it? It’s even okay that you didn’t tell them you’re married and your husbands out of town.
But that’s okay until he comes home early and surprises you. But you didn’t think of that, as the boys do a mad scramble out the second floor window.
You don’t think of how those two boys end up sitting for hours in the ER, waiting for their parents to come and get them. How they struggle to explain how one of them has a broken ankle, one a broken arm; or where their shirts and shoes are.
Sure, you’re tired of it now, but at a different place and time, you expect it and to hell with the consequences!”
And I stood and left the table

The Colored Lens

It suddenly dawned on me that my friend LP is turning 40 this year! I usually get a chance to see her, when I am in Boston. But I have not seen her for a while.

I can’t picture her older than when I first met her, over ten years ago. Oh, she still looked young the last time I saw her. Or maybe, as I age, she always stays the same amount younger?

And I think of my wife. When I see her, do I only see the lovely woman of 28? Will she always be that to me? I have to stop and look at her, she doesn’t seem to have changed very much, to me.

I am older, grey, some wrinkles. But she seems still…like she hasn’t aged as much. It’s like I am the older one now.

And do we do that to our friends and family? Freeze them?

A photograph in your memory,
Through the colored lens of time?

But I won’t ponder it too much.
There is a lovely woman in the next room,
One who shares our life.
One whom I still love to gaze upon.
To hold in my arms.
To keep me warm at night.

Everybody hurts, sometimes.

Kitchen remodeling takes time. Sand, fill, wait. Prime, wait, sand, paint, wait, etc.
Today was one of the fun things. Straddle the kitchen sink and tear out the old light fixture. The guy who built it originally did a crappy job. The framing for the soffit and light fixture were…shitty is the only way to put it.
So, trying to kneel over the sink, Sawzall chewing away, then chisel in hand; hack, cut, saw. And constantly calling the bastard foul names.
It’s a tight space, but with the right bending and twisting, I got the pot lights installed and only sliced one finger.
Okay, I almost fell off the countertop five times. My leg hit the faucet twice and I had to stop and clean up the water. But there weren’t any really big problems.

It’s times like these, when I’d rather be short, and with small hands.

And maybe younger.

All that bending and twisting.

There are a number of muscles that are starting to complain. Muscles that have been quiet for years.

Oh shut up old man.

reading, and writing about it

As I walked into the Safeway store, I noticed this gal walking out. There were four lines of text on her sweatshirt. It said something about licking something, then she was passed me.(yes, and there was a distortion to the letters, caused by the ‘curvature’)

Now come on, if your gonna say something on your shirt, please walk slowly. Or better yet, since we are not supposed to stare at a woman’s chest; put it on the back of the shirt!
The front should be a simple, short statement.

This is especially true if the puppies are unencumbered! For if you want attention, you’ll get it without any writing. Even a simple ‘Guess?’ is unneeded. Darling, we can see that they are wondrously alive! We don’t need to ‘guess’ what delights lurk beneath that thin tee shirt.

And if you are well built, with the ‘Guess?’ logo stretching to its breaking point. Yes, we’re guessing silicone.

Eschew obfuscation

Well, I feel better. Nobody knows I am here, but if I google me, I can find myself! Hey, that will save me thousands by not having to go to a shrink!

'Plain jello' is out there, as is 'righthand twist'. I'll have to find others. I am sure they are there, hiding? Or are they? If I reveal myself to them, will they reveal themselves to me? They could even see me, but not know it's me.

It's so odd, people out there, spilling their guts from behind the curtain. Show off as they remain unknown.

Or they make things up, spin a yarn, obfuscate.
Open the curtain, expose the sets, props. Say the lines. Become someone else, or not.

You decide, you who can be deceived.

GW

when dee mood is there

Sometimes, a beginning seems almost lost in time.
Hard to remember if first there was a glimpse, a chance sighting, someone talked about someone.
But I remember walking into the bank and trepidatiously, approaching the loan officer. I sit and look at the loan officer. She is so cute! As I explain what I need, want, I watch her grey-green eyes sparkle and dance. Forms are filed out. She has a nice smile. Warm. And something else.
I know something will be wrong with me, no car loan.
But she is so cute. How long can I sit and talk to her?
I know someone, who knows someone, who works at this same branch.
The worlds can come together. (yeah, right)

She hands me back the form, asks for some more information. I write more and look up at her as I pass back the form. I smile, she smiles back. There is just a hint of mischievousness in her smile, her eyes.
She looks to be just a little older than me, maybe.

I pass muster, the check is handed to me, and the payment book. I thank her and walk out the door, off to buy my first car.

And you know, over two decades later, she is still only a little older than me. Her eyes still sparkle. And when she smiles, the mischief dances up into her eyes.

The Fog

It's not easy being a night owl. The world wants you up early, to bed early. The dog wants you up, now! For every morning starts with a dog walk. While the rest of the world seems asleep, and the coffee is brewing, you find yourself wandering down foggy streets. The dog knows the way, knows what to do. All you can do is try to avoid tripping over the dog, and your own two feet.
You know that far ahead, your wife is briskly walking along, not slowed by the investigative dog.
At least, after all these years, you know the route. Unfortunately, the mind is wandering.
That first blast of coffee and sugar is still in the distance.
Words flow through my mind, thoughts, and phrases. But like an old river, it meanders, flows over its banks, and carves new channels. Sometimes, the flows of thoughts go nowhere, sometimes they erode the banks, revealing nuggets of gold; at times, lumps of coal. Regardless, and out of control, they flow.
Mindless meanderings, every morning.

Wal-mart
A big-box store
Big-box store
another name for a brothel?

a tough row to hoe
A large madam
stuck in the brothel
the town is flooded
no one wants to rescue her
because she is a tough ho to row.

Words split, come together
dissipate
baldness
when hair will diss a pate

So, as the sky lightens, the fog begins to lift from my mind. By the time I am home, coffee poured, the mind begins to wake and I try to remember the wordplay. Most of the time, it is gone, just a fleeting impression that I might have thought of something clever.

Well, tomorrow morning, the thoughts will be back.

Should I tell you of my real life?

I spent the day removing the center panels of the kitchen cabinet doors and putting beadboard in its place. Boring stuff with a router and electric miter saw. Power tools can make the work go faster, but you can also get into trouble very quickly!
I was pretty lucky. No big mistakes. Not cut fingers. A successful day in my book. With luck, I’ll get the uppers done tomorrow.
W spent the day priming the cabinets, tomorrow the drawer front get primed. Eventually, all the cabinets will be white. Wall color is still to be determined.

Dinner, some TV, then off to bed.

Such excitement! I can hardly contain myself.

It’s more interesting to go online and read some jokes, check up on some friends.

Simile

My golfer friend told me that he never met-a-fore he didn't like.

And suddenly, I saw the answer to my dad's question!

Several years ago, my dad asked me a simple question.
"If turnabout is fair play, what's foreplay?"

I first thought the answer was 'Turn around is foreplay.' But now I see it was a trick question. The answer is, "Twins are four play."

So, 'I never met-a-four I didn't like!'

And it's not, in their arms entwined, it's…can you be 'twinned'?

And you don't use twine, cordage is much better.

How did I get roped into this?

Well, don't worry, I saved the best for lash.

There Are Rules!

I am not saying we should misbehave, but we should look as if we are capable of doing it at any time. Oscar Wilde

We have Tommy, a five year old Beagle-border collie mix. Much different from the Lab we used to have. With a word, a gesture, a snap of the finger; he knows what to do.

Boarder collie? Well, we give him room and board. Border collie, because there are borders! You cannot do that. Patrol the perimeter of the yard. Guard the door. Do not go into the Forbidden Zone! ‘Bark, bark, bark’ –(stranger! In the house!)

So Tommy is a smart dog, not sure if it is the beagle or the collie. He will not sleep on the couch unless certain conditions are met.
1. No one is home
2. They have turned out the light and gone to bed.
a. Once they have gone to bed, if they come back in the room, they cannot see the dog.
3. If, and only if, there is a specific invite. (a hand, dropping to the couch cushion, can be correctly interpreted as a specific invite.)


Tommy will not cross the vinyl floor in the kitchen unless.
1. The doorbell rings.
2. A snack falls to the floor, within 3 feet of the door.
3. They have gone to bed.
4. The Mistress of the house is being too quiet. One must check on her.
5. The Master of the house has awoken, Tommy will now check to see if the Mistress is awake.

You can invite Tommy into the kitchen and he will not enter.

If you catch him on the wrong side of the Forbidden Zone, he will not cross back to his room until you are no longer watching.

He watches us. If we are not watching him, the rules change, borders move.
With a word, a gesture, a snap of the finger; he knows what to do.

We walk him every day. He waits for me each morning.
On weekends, when I sleep in, he checks on me.
Quietly. For he is nothing, if not stealthy.

Smart dogs are different.