Thongs Are Not For The Faint of Heart

Liz writes:

I suffer from Romantic Delay. I don't think this is a medical condition, for it's not the female equivilent of the oft advertised erectile disfunction- it's more a total immaturity for the need for a companion of the opposite sex. Had I lived 100 years ago, I would be long washed up and hopeless. My father would be in a constant state of depression knowing his daughter's only hope for a better life was a 62 year old widower with cows that need milking. I'd be stuck teaching school in a one room school house and not showing my knees in public. And if I were the same spirit then that I am now, I would be ok with this.

What's wrong with me? What about that internal drive to couple? The Discovery Channel is always saying that this is why we exist- to procreate. The desire to find a mate overrides everything else. Where's my share of that? I've never gone out on a date with someone I wasn't interested in. Ok, except in 6th grade when I "went with" a guy named Terrel for one day. I hated it. I figured then that if you don't get the right vibe, you shouldn't waste anybody's time. Screw a free dinner. I want to play fair.

Needless to say, I don't get out much.

But I'm getting there. I'm reaching the point where I think it would be NICE to have a man in my life. Hell, I'm middle aged. It's about time I felt some internal pressure to have a reliable booty call in my life. The urge to use terms like, "my boyfriend" is beginning to surface. I've even bought pretty bras- just in case they get to peek out one night. But I lack the experience of playing the game. I don't know HOW to be coy or seductive with the intent of luring. I don't understand the rules of a relationship. I ask too many questions and have expectations that don't match the game that's in play. It is what it is... I missed the practices and now I'm coming up with my own rules. "FOUL!" "Interferrence!" "False Start!" It's hard to START playing at 34.

Last night I was susposed to go out for drinks with a work guy. He's single and I've been after him for MONTHS to go out for cocktails. I don't consider this a romantic match, but I figure he's single, I'm single- we might as well be drinking buddies. Everyone that works for him likes me and his boss loves me. This guy, however, has seemed immune to my charms. That bastard.

Because my ass continues to get wider with each passing second, my jeans were SKIN tight last night- so I put on a thong. I don't even know how I ended up with a thong because some things don't go together: Peanut butter and white fish, beer and birthday cake, Liz and a thong. But I had one on. He never called... I'm not used to this rudeness, so I went up to Chilli's and got a couple of two-for-ones and then rented Crash and went home. I was feeling a little befuddled. WHY didn't he let me know something? Is he trying to say without saying that he doesn't want to spend time with me? I will admit, I've basically demanded that he commit to a couple of cold ones with me. Has my forcefullness scared him into thinking I'm after his sausage? I know he's not romantically interested- I'm rather neutral about him- which means, in essence, that I feel the same way. But to not get back with me- to not call and say that he wouldn't make it- to simply stand me up when he knows that I had a plan C to go out with some other folks- that's just ugly. And it's an unpleasant feeling to be unwanted.

So I've got 4 two-for-ones in me and I go into the bathroom at home for a pee before starting Crash and one of my cats comes into the bathroom. You know how cats love string! Sneaker went CRAZY over this thong. He was totally enthralled- pulling at it, rolling around on the rug trying to stretch it out, pawing at it and trying to get entangled in the tiny red thread... it was funny. And depressing. I feel like an idoit when I have on a thong and I look like a tube of cinnamon rolls that has just exploded. And there I was, good makeup and hair, sitting on the toliet with my cat trying his damnedst to get that thong off of me.

Yep. I think I DO need a man.