I still don’t have it

Once upon a time I might have been good looking, never in a George Clooney or Denzel Washington kind of way, but I probably had a few years where I was 7 maybe an 8 on a good day. It doesn’t seem that it has been that many years ago when I caught a lady taking a second glance at me. Now if they look at me twice its probably because my fly is down, or I got something hanging out of my nose.

So, imagine my surprise yesterday at Publix’s, standing in front of the beer cooler looking for that perfect July the 4th grilling beverage, when an attractive 40ish looking blond starts chatting me up. Now at first, I thought she was talking to someone else because at this stage in my life I just assume I am invisible to any woman below 80. My normal conversation with women in Publix’s starts off with “can you reach that for me.” But this cute lady really was talking to me.

She mentioned that she had seen me before, which isn’t a big surprise since I am there almost every day. She wanted to know what I was doing for “fun” this evening to celebrate the fourth, you know just flirty conversation. I said something dumb like sweating over a grill drinking beer and her comeback was “your adorable, that sounds like fun”. At that point I was wondering if she was a hooker, a plant my wife had paid to trip me up, or if she was suffering from severe brain damage.

I focused on finding my beer, and pulled my favorite off the shelf, Left Hand Milk Stout, and she said, “hmm you like a robust beer”. Now, I can carry on a conversation with a cinderblock but at that moment, looking into her blue eyes, a fine slim figure, in a lowcut blouse with her female assets in full display I couldn’t think of anything witty to say. Honestly, I think I grunted something about having to get a block of cheese for my wife which she returned with “lucky girl” and a smile. She even had all her teeth.

I was terrified, and told her I needed to run, “I’ll see you next time” she replied, and run I did, forgetting the cheese which was the whole reason I went. That conversation didn’t go well with the wife coming home with a six pack of beer and no cheese but that’s happened before.

So pretty Publix lady if you read this, I am the old fat guy in the Grateful Dead t-shirt and Dad style cargo shorts. Thank you for making my day. Next time I promise I won’t be such knot on the log. That’s a lie, I will still be terrified.            

About ends and beginnings blog

I am a frustrated writer and poet waiting to be discovered. A stand-up philosopher performing on a street corner near you. A Christian with questions but I don’t want to hear your answers. A Buddhist with a bumper sticker on my truck to prove it. A collector of quotes. A grower of lettuce. The Patron Saint of earthworms who name their children after me. A cyclist whose big ass strains the seams of his Lycra bibs. I am American by birth, Southern by the grace of God. My goal in life is to leave an imprint on the lives of the people I love not a footprint on the earth. I am a son, a husband, a father composed of 65%-Oxygen, 18%-Carbon, 10%-Hydrogen, 3%-Nitrogen, 3%-Diet Coke and 1%-Oreo.
This entry was posted in Discover, discover wp, Life, Thoughts, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to I still don’t have it

  1. Belinda O says:

    You made me laugh. I feel your pain!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. LOL! Right there with you, brother. I’m at the age where if a woman flirts with me, she clearly is nearsighted or desperate, or both. 😁

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Nan says:

    You SEXY FOX you!!! 🦊 Acknowledge what happened and savor it for all its worth! We ALL need a boost of (sexual) energy now and again. 😈

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s