On being a Gentleman

IndigoWrath's  blog  Gravity Takes Hold Again  reminded me of another story regarding that sleek black beautiful mustang we were blessed with while in California…

It was the last night we were going to be in San Francisco and, with him being from the other side of the world and me being from the other side of the states, we’d filled up the day with so much sight seeing  in Marin County that we’d not gotten back over the bridge until long after night fell. We’d had a glorious day, but it had also been a long one.  Both of us more than tired, coupled with failed attempts to locate a hotel in this dark unfamiliar area made city traffic more than a pain.

Indigo knew we were in the right vicinity but wasn’t certain exactly where the hotel was, so in order to save us from further circling of city blocks he decided to pull over, park, and walk up the street and locate the hotel by sight first.  But, because it was dark and unfamiliar (and being that Indigo truly is a gentleman’s gentleman), he bade me to remain safely in the locked black beauty while he looked for the hotel himself.

I couldn't argue with his logic and he got out assuring me he'd not be long and locked the car with me in it. I watched him wander down the street into the dark and settled in to wait.

It was then that I decided to peer through the passenger window at the city for one last time…

...and saw all those flashing lights racing around poster after poster of barely clad lusty ladies advertising strippers, pole dancers, peep shows and far more…

Oh my!

And, as if that didn't make me uncomfy enough already, there was a small group of fairly bulked up men standing right outside my door yammering on about the car I was sitting in…

I think that’s when I realized I was sitting right in front of the velvet carpeted entrance to San Francisco’s Lusty Lady (I won’t link it here - your on your own for that ;) ).

Am I lucky or what!?  I sank further down into the seat, for once more than glad I am tiny and thank god it was dark enough that i could pretend maybe I wasn’t visible at all sitting there under those flashing lights in that extremely sleek and sexy car...

But, the longer it took Indigo the more uncomfortable I became. And the more uncomfortable I became the more my mind started to wonder -and wander- and damn that was so not where I wanted to be sitting right then.

So, in these situations does one get out and run or do they stay?

Me? I couldn’t decide …

My dilema was thwarted when the doors unlocked and the lights switched on inside the car.  I sighed in relief, and realized I’d been holding my breath.

Thank god, Indigo is back!

Or so I thought...

Because when I looked about for him he wasn’t there.

In fact, he wasn’t anywhere at all.

But I had, I realized, lost track of those big bulked up men…  

And that's just when the trunk opened.

I sucked in a deep breath and, being that woman suddenly living in the fear she’d created all around her own little self, found myself thinking very fast:  I re-locked both doors at the same time and stood ready to do it again if i had too - screw whatever the hell is in the trunk, they can have it!

An eternity of a minute later the trunk slammed shut and Indigo was at the drivers door. (which I believe I had to unlock for him from inside)

What the hell?!

Turns out he had attempted to get into a similar mustang a block previous to where we’d parked and wondered why the damn key remote wouldn't work even when he was standing right there pointing it at the door.

(surely he must have been more than irritated that I was ignoring his attempts to get into that car, but being the gentleman that he is, he has never said so)

I should add here that Indigo was more than horrified when, finally settled at the hotel, I got around to asking if he realized just where he had left me - in fact; he may still be in denial about that…

*grin*

Ten Years From Now...

Ms CatLadyLarew tagged me for this;

I am to make a list of what i hope life will hold for me ten years from now and, after posting my list i am supposed to tag ten other people to do the same.

firstly; thank you, though i know my list will not be any where near as noble as yours...
secondly; i don't know ten people to tag who have not already been so right away i am breaking the rules...

which brings me to the list;

ten years from now i hope that i;

am still able to hold the hands of those that i love - especially my grandchildren...
never hesitate to say i love you and mean it - because life is far too short not to...
am still young enough to play in the sand, swing on the swings, and slide down the slide...
will be smart enough to know what i really want and understand what i need to do to get it...
will have had the courage to stand up for what i know to be true...
take sh1t from no one - not even myself...
have my furniture exactly where i want it...
laugh every single day...

am still breaking the rules with those who are brave enough to hold my hand and laugh with me...

Victoria, darling, I didn't feel a thing...

I got up early this morning because the luck of the draw had me expecting a cable tv technician before 8am.

I had every intention of heading to the supermarket after the tech had left. . .
Even so, there I stood dumbfounded as a blonde wondering which new to me and extremely expensive Victoria’s Secret bra I should put on.

Pretty black polka dots or Boring basic beige…
hmmm… I don’t want to ruin the pretty one…
But what are you going to be doing between now and the supermarket besides waiting for someone to fix your tv…
but still, basic beige should be my choice…
yes…
no…
Oh hell, maybe I should just wear and old one…
do you know how silly you sound right now?
you are arguing with yourself about which bra to wear right before the cable man shows up! One would think you were a bored housewife…
but I am a bored housewife! I said bored, not desperate…

(giggling)

you worry too much, no wonder your hair is gray! just wear the one you like best…

Pretty black polka dots it is then…

(this was followed by a long sleeve turtle neck polo and a grandmotherly cardigan sweater just in case you are thinking I really am desperate)

So the cable tech is here for an hour before he calls another tech for help and together they decide it is the fault of my television, not their equipment. I must, on my own, find a firmware update and fix the problem myself. They let themselves out and I set out to find a firmware update via google and by golly gee there is one! It's downloadable too! Bonus!

No time like the present, I think, so I decide to download and install it. But installation takes longer than I anticipated so while I stand there waiting, I decide I may as well reroute the surround sound speaker wires. The darn things have driven me crazy since their install anyway, I mean why just dangle them ceiling to floor exposed when they can easily be routed out of sight through the wall of the storage room behind them?

Right?

Right!

I get the ladder from said storage room and wriggle it into place under the 'drop' ceiling behind the television - a major maneuver that would make even MacGyver proud - remove the ceiling tile and shove them over the wall. I then reverse my MacGyver maneuver and bring the ladder into the storage room and position it in front of the utility shelving which i have to stand on to route the wires down the wall behind it toward a small hole in the wall.

The hole had already been drilled between two of the utility shelves for the cable wire and though I will need to move boxes of paint, crouch between two shelves and search through insulation to find it, i’m feeling quite smart about not having to drill another hole.

Voila! The wires go through the hole in a smarter than MacGyver fashion, no duct tape involved at all!

I’m feeling so confident I decide I can fix the cold air return vent too. Why not? I’m crouched down there between two shelves anyway. Of course this involves my battery operated screw driver and moving a couple more boxes but I fast manage that.

And in record time the vent is unattached and fixed without incident.

But, as I am re-attaching the vent to the wall I start to smell an odd but very strong odor. Well damn! Something is wrong with my screwdriver! I take a whif of the driver. Nope. It doesn’t smell.

I sniff the wall. Nope.

I sniff the boxes. Nothing.

What the hell?!?

My mind is now going ninety miles an hour because this is the room my ghost inhabits and, silly or no, I’m suddenly feeling like I need to get myself out of there in double speed.

I maneuver out from between the shelves and when i stand I realize my shirt has a small wet spot.

Not only is it wet, the odor seems to be radiating from that spot…

Holy shit!! What the hell is going on here!?!

My heart starts to beat at the same speed as my mind just before I drop the screwdriver into a box full of spray paint.

Spray paint!

That’s the smell!

Oh man, I must have leaned on the trigger!

Wait. It's cold. Why didn’t I feel it spraying through my shirt?

I don’t get it…

Then, my heart stopped beating all together.

And I raise my shirt realizing that I didn’t feel a thing because the can of white spray paint is male and he quite happily filled the foam liner in my Pretty black polka dotted first time ever extremely expensive and damn near new Victoria’s Secret bra.

*just knows her ghost is still down there in the store room laughing his ass off*

a matter of consonants

I went for a massage this week.

I disrobed and crawled onto the warm table face down, pulled the sheet over my back side and wriggled into a comfort zone.

But the comfort zone quick lost its luster and I wriggled into another position.

And then another.

And yet another.

Laying there unable to find a comfortable position I thought about my childhood. In particular the long rides home on an overcrowded school bus, wishing that god had given us removable arms. Suddenly i thought the same thing about my breasts and giggled out loud; enter the massage therapist who asked what had amused me.

“I was just thinking how nice it would be to be able to take off my boobs for a while.”

[she oils her hands]

Oh, I know what you mean. sometimes they are so uncomfortable!

“exactly! in the way at the worst of times.”

[she starts my massage]

I don’t know about you, but mine never seem to fit properly…
 It would be nice to find a pair that did…


I’d like, just once, to have a pair that were perfect.

[if wishes were horses]

I’m stuck with an oversized utilitarian pair that I hate…

[yep, me too]

What I really want is something cute and sexy…

[wouldn't that be nice?]

Maybe something sleek, black, and extremely pointy…

[okay wait. extremely pointy?]

That I could slip into and out of in a flash and no matter what the weather my feet would never get wet…

[designer boobs of the madonna sort!? i'll pass]

[she laughs]
Can you see me in something like that? I’d probably parade around in them like a runway model…

[oh yeah, I would too!]

Instead I’ll just have to keep the ones I have and be happy with them… sad tale of woe…

and just as I am about to remind her that surgery is always an option she adds;


But on the bright side summer is coming and I can put my boots away and just go barefoot!