One last rendezvous
A flight across the water
Sun flaming farewell
Sunday, November 29, 2020
Sunday, November 22, 2020
Saturday, November 21, 2020
Thanks, Gorgeous Guy!
I was in Milka's the other day (okay, it was yesterday at 3:09 in the afternoon - that's a joke, really), standing at the counter, when a man standing off to the side - you know, near the batteries, headache and sleep OTC meds, mosquito sprays and sugar free candy, along with a few hundred other miscellaneous items, that area - caught my eye.
'Oh! Did I cut in front of you?' I asked, because I was far from being in a hurry and I also have an anti-rudeness gene deeply embedded (at least out in public and with strangers). It was sort of a tossed off comment, until seeing him registered with me, as he replied he was in no hurry, take my time, etcetera.
For your own viewing pleasure because it's what I've got to offer.
I have to say, in that nanosecond look, he registered strongly. This guy had a perfect body, along with a generous and gorgeous smile. He was not ridiculously muscled, but nicely muscled, more than a swimmer, more than a runner, less than a weight lifter. And he wasn't wearing shorts to his shins, so all of those toned leg muscles were just there for the viewing. It wasn't like I was breaking my neck to leer ogle look, he was right there, speaking to me. In public.
It's only the most wee bit embarrassing to say I was, momentarily, speechless in the light of his physical beauty, but it's true. I gathered myself together enough to say exactly what I just wrote above. 'I'm good, I'm just enjoying the view, thanks.' The girl behind the counter gave me a laughing look and I said, 'Hey, this is what old women get to do!'. And it is, even though what the hell else was I supposed to say? Thankfully, I was masked.
No, of course I didn't take a photo. Really. I mean it. However. If I start grabbing tourists crotches, if I veer into Joanna land, someone please put me safely away, with love. Call Bike Steve, he'll know what to do.
Have a satisfying Saturday. Do something (only a teeny weeny just the very littlest barely seconds long) legally salacious. Oh, never mind. Do something sweetly that makes you sigh.
