Tag Archives: tasteful nudity

WHISKEY. TANGO. FOXTROT??!!?

My FAVE yummy wine!

Okay…for all my healthy serenity-in-the-nude-solitude of the past day or so, I gotta say, it has run its course.   The excitement of flashing Jasper my shameless nudity no longer holds much entertainment value for me at the moment… This is a source of deep embarrassment for me; I’m a firm believer that only intellectually and/or creatively challenged people “get bored”. 

Thus, although I’m still home alone, I’ve donned a few articles of clothing (…ummm…yes…I can hear the collective GASP shivering through the universe at that shocking little tidbit of unorthodox deviance), poured a lovely, scrumptious and delightfully hefty glass of Seven Deadly Zins and I ponder the thoughts which have been running rampant through my mind today…

A fair representation of Octo-man

  1.  The gentleman in his 60’s (or early 70’s maybe???) whom I safely sat next to upon my first little visit to the neighborhood watering hole. ( I didn’t want to sit all alone and I really didn’t want to get hit on either…so ) Immediately after our polite introduction to one another, begins discussing with me how there are, in fact, people “our age” who come to this bar,  explains in graphic and unwanted detail the vast popularity of Jared the hot, young bartender, his “cougar following”, and all the many, many women who come here merely to see and flirt with said ”hot bartender”, Jared.

Ummm….W.T.F??  Firstly, I didn’t even know of Jared’s existence prior to this little jaunt.  And FYI pal, I resent being classified by you, a man clearly over 60,  as in “our age group”…I mean, yeah,  I realize my 20’s are getting fuzzy in the rear-view here, but  the man’s most likely somewhere in the vicinity of TWICE my freakin age!  Thus, you do not get to say to me such things as,  “people “our age”!  No. 

a true life-like depiction of Jared

I let this pass… but then when he jumped clear into the cougar talk…   I gotta tell you, I could hardly hear the man talking anymore.  Seriously… WHISKEY.  TANGO.  FOXTROT pal?!???  Have we come so far in this cougar-bit that a woman over the age of 30 can’t go into a bar by her house that happens to have a hot 20-something bartender, without being instantly and unjustly classified into the COUGAR category?!  And not only that, but implied by a pre-octogenarian at that??!!  Are you kiddin’ me?

WHISKEY. TANGO. FOXTROT!     I found this not only insulting at a high level, but terribly unjust and unwarranted as well.  Who the fuck do you think you ARE old man?  You’d better pump those squeaky old brakes of yours pal and simmer down.  Yeah, with your smooth verbal skills with the ladies, it’s not exactly clear to me why on earth you’re single?!? Ahhh..the mystery…

Meanwhile, I’ve got late 20-ish, early 30-ish drunken surfer dude who has camped out in the empty chair next to me, sliding his hand UP MY THIGH and leaning over to whisper, spitting  with his hot breath in my ear, “It’s so obvious how much you want me…  I’m like a tiger ya know; I can sense these attraction things from a mile away.”  OH MY GAWD….is this a bad movie?  Hidden camera prank?  WHAT is going on here?!

So while I was already busy pulling my insulted chin up off the floor from shock at Old Man’s Audacity-n-Confusion on my right, I had to take my soggy bar napkin and wipe the drunken-surfer-dude spittle off my left cheek.

you get the general idea here of drunk surfer dude

WHISKEY.  TANGO. FOXTROT.  Now I’m insulted AND disgusted.

To add insult to injury, it seemed Jared (yeah, HOT bartender is a very accurate description) was watching things and maybe feeling a little sorry for my plight…  So he asks me if I will do a shot with him.  Umm….with the utmost gratitude and pleasure, YES!, I will partake in an inappropriate amount of alcohol in a too short a period of time for my body to process, just to nurse my punctured ego-wounds and hopefully simultaneously cleanse myself of my OMG-so-unsanitary-spittle-on-my-face-disgust!  …Ummm…noooo Mr. Old Man,   I’m not quite ready to chuck myself across the bar at Jared in true Cougar-like fashion, but hell YEAH, I want a shot!  Red headed slut?  Lindsey Lohan?  Tequila?? I don’t care, I’ve money for a cab…just bring it!!!  And hurry!

…As Jared (the life and ego saving bartender/hero), the other 20-something bartender, and I are all raising our glasses to toast, I happened to glance briefly to my right…just in time to see Old Man Octogenarian giving me a knowing little wink, with a smug cat-that-swallowed-the-canary grin…  OMFG…

WHISKEY.  TANGO.  FOXTROT??!!

Nude blogging and other confessions

I'm a (tastefully) nude blogger

After the date debacle that was Friday’s experience.  I was wholly unprepared to hear Saturday suddenly from Mr M.  Mr. M and I have emailed for a while and recently exchanged cell numbers, but I hadn’t heard from him in a few days.  Yesterday, he texts.  First, he says hi and introduces himself.  Second, he asks if I have any pictures to send from my phone.  What???  I almost start laughing.  Before I can respond to this, he sends through the picture; the bathroom shot.  And suddenly, the clouds In my antiquated brain functioning part and like an epiphany, I finally get it!  Maybe these guys asking for “another photo” to be sent from my phone are truly just looking for that picturethe picture

Am I the only person on earth who does not have that bathroom self portrait on my phone primed and ready to send?  …The only person in existence online who doesn’t keep that popular photo hovering out there in technology land just waiting around to be hurled through time and space from cell phone to cell phone?  My daughters have a literal ton of these photos and I see them everywhere on their friends’ Facebook and Myspace profiles.  The truth is, because of this, I just feel I’m over the age limit to indulge in such a thing.  In addition, I just feel completely ridiculous taking one like that.  I don’t know why.   I don’t think it’s terribly odd to see this photo of other adults.  I just feel awkward posing in front of my bathroom mirror, cell phone in hand, making sure any kind of “incriminatingly” embarrassing bathroom product is taken off my vanity, saying to myself, “Say CHEESE”, and snapping away.  I really can’t explain just why that feels so strange to me.  There’s nothing wrong with it, right?

I also can’t seem to shake that overwhelming curiosity as to why this is a seemingly common request/requirement.  Is it nervousness at wondering if they’ve seen a true representation of what I look like?  Is this popular photo now the considered the missing link of online dating?  That one photo which ties it all together, clears up all ambiguity, and provides the irrefutable proof of what you really look like?

Well a couple of things here:  1. I’m not taking one at all.  I’m just not going to for the reasons I’ve explained above. And 2:  Not gonna do it because everyone else already has.  Also, at this exact moment, I was sitting in the nude, writing in my blog…(yes nude. .. I like to be naked when I’m home alone.  You’ve just no idea the joy I get from not having my clothes on) and call me unreasonable,   call me whatever, I will not get dressed at this very moment, hindering my current nude-enjoyment, just to take the picture.    Unreasonable bitch?  Why yes, I suppose I am!

However, I compromise (again) and add him to my FB, where I’ve plenty of photos to help decipher the missing link of online dating.  His curiosity seems satisfied with this compromise and he asks me for a meet-n-greet for coffee.

From having been up till 3 AM Friday night, just the night before…obviously not due to the fun I had on my date…  I was hesitant to agree.  Also, I confess, the practically instantaneous rejection from PhD midget man …umm…less than honest guy…my self- confidence has been rattled a little bit.  After some thought and back-n forth indecision, I agree to meet him in an hour.

I’m glad I did too.  He appears to be completely normal, looks like his picture, and can maintain an intelligent conversation.  He’s about ten years older than I, but I knew this and it really doesn’t seem to make a difference to me.  For some reason with this guy, the age gap doesn’t seem like a canyon either, but more along the lines of an appropriate and manageable age difference with respectful consideration to the maturity gap between the sexes.  We seem to be right on the same page!

Two glasses of iced-tea later, some regularly-paced and interesting conversation, and I have to go.   Perfect.  Short and sweet.  He offers to walk me to my car.  I like this.  I really do appreciate and enjoy the little basics of “old-fashioned” chivalry and consideration of my femininity .  For me, this is not only appropriate; it’s that little tiny extra that I very much enjoy about being a woman.

Another bonus for Mr. M., is that as he’s walking me to the door, through the people, he does my favorite date-thing ever….my most absolute favorite actually… he places his hand ever so lightly on my (upper)lower back as we walk.  To me, this gesture is the perfect balance of affection without crudeness and “ together”-ness without possession.  In fact, I can say with absolute honesty, that the love of my life guy did this regularly and it was one of the tiny things that made me adore him (and ultimately choose him) over the rest of my romantic interests at that time in my life.  It’s that little gesture that demonstrates and respects that I’m a female, yes, over and above it all, I am just a girl, without even a tiny sensation of that clingy, pushy feeling of “MINE!, MINE!  LOOK EVERYONE!  MINE!”

Ahhhhh   lovely……  I’m excited to see Mr. M again:) …and he claims he is interested in a second date (a real date..not a brief meet-n-greet) as well.  And in spite of the insecurities Mr. PhD inspired, I actually believe him.