So, the beat goes on here in North Texas. The days are long and hot... unlike most other things during the dog days of summer. And man, did the "dog days" hit with a vengeance.
I spent the evening with
one of my sidekicks, chatting over wine and food. We decided this week to stay away from the bars and just kick it at his place. Now I'll be the first to admit that he's quite a looker. Young.. smart.. handsome.. and has two of the most endearing qualities of a promising husband: a car and a job.
But that evening, his usual easy-going, perky attitude turned dark. He is getting fed up with his romantic outlook, and
he bitched about not being able to find a man. I looked at him longingly, almost burning a stare through him. I was trying to find just the right way to tell him objectively and with tact. Then, it came to me... he was picky -- very picky -- in fact, almost to the point of disorder. Out of respect for the value of confidentiality, I will call him "Stud".
Dear Stud... every time we go out, you pick up the menu chocked full of delicious entrees and order something unrealistic:
Stud looks at waiter and demands, "Yes, I'd like the Man of the Day, well done but not charred, with exactly 1.2% fat, perfect teeth, a salary in excess of $70K/yr, no bad manners, no snoring, no smoking, works out 4 days a week, 100% honest, and always thinks I'm right. Plus, I don't ever want him to go
'window shopping' and to always sweep me off my feet."
Waiter rolls eyes and responds, "I'm sorry, Sir. We're fresh out of that."
Stud looks at me and hisses, "This is bull shit, Kev. Let's peel out of here."
Then, we bolt the restaurant and the cycle starts all over again. Maybe someday I'll get the courage to straight up tell him what he needs to hear. I admire him for knowing what he wants, but damn, his expectations are high.
Look, if you are in a restaurant of 30 people, and they are all 'ugly' or 'straight'... how long must you go on bitching about not finding a man before you compromise? Either try something on the menu that you'd probably end up loving, or bitch and starve. There are
always options, some more logical than others.
Stud, I love you, but wake up and smell the roses. You don't have to lower your standards -- just bring them in line with reality around you before you shrivel up, sag southward, and die alone.
Whatever you decide, I'm here as your endearing friend.
*Raises glass* ... bottoms up!
Oh, there's nothing like a peaceful, lustful Sunday morning... the Lord's day of rest. Here I am, working intermittently on my first book and browsing through my favorite celebrity pages. Then, I passed this guy up and turned around for another peek. But do you know who he is?
