Coochy catnip. Hormone heroine. Instant addiction.

Gas prices are going up. Want to know the best way to make you forget about it? Go to the same gas station as hot single dad.

I had a sighting of our school's dad of the year, so to speak. I call him Dashing Daddy. And, he is quite dashing in an iconic sort of way. Today, he was pumping gas. Impeccably dressed, a hit of shyness to his eyes, and a healthy dose of hotness emanating from His Royal Dadness.

For those of you who weren't around for the original story, which I haven't related here on this blog, I'll start at the beginning. One morning, I was amused to find all of the mothers in the carpool lane ogling and drooling over the poor guy as he was walking his little boy into school. It originally prompted me to post an open letter to the traffic-jamming jeans-wearing dad.

Dear Dashing Daddy,
I think it's really cute that you bring your adorable son to school. Really, I do. But, please stay in your car. There's no need to walk through the entire parking lot. It totally screws up the line of sex-starved stay-at-home moms who are sitting in their cars envisioning a Harlequin Romance novel turned Lifetime Movie Network Special, in which they are have the leading female role.
Thank You,
Mom Who Needs to Get to Work on Time
Okay... I was joking around. He's a really nice guy as far as I can tell. But, on that crazy day, the lady in the car in front of me almost drove off with her little guy still in the backseat. I couldn't help but laugh as he frantically tried to open the child-proof locked door. You could see him thrashing around in the back seat, waving his arms. Then, his mom slammed on the brakes and he sprung out of the estrogen pool that was quickly filling up the car.

Dashing Dad befuddled the entire line of cars as women watched him slowly make his way through the length of the lot, stroll through the cross-walk and into the building. He seemed to never notice the line of women, heads turning in unison as they watched him make his way in. In my mind, I could hear the old western music they play as two cowboys are about to shoot it out in the street. I was waiting for a tumbleweed to come rolling by. It was fascinating.

And, of course, Little Me jumped right out of the car and began yelling for the dad and his son. Turns out, the boys are best friends. Go figure. That boy always seems to know just who to hang with.

After watching the women sneaking peeks at him during the Fall Festival, I've wondered why the PTO doesn't recruit him to hold an office. I bet the attendance would skyrocket. That dude could get some stuff done.
Sometimes married people just don't get that we single people aren't compatible with other single people simply based on the fact that we are single.
I've joked about Dashing Dad with a friend of mine. "Why don't you talk to him," she asked. Sometimes married people just don't get that we single people aren't compatible with other single people simply based on the fact that we are single. Zoos are the same way. Just because it's a female tiger and a male tiger doesn't mean that they want to make little baby tigers together. Married people need to understand that single + single does not equal future married couple. A lot of times single + single equals a lot of drama divided by friends who set you up that aren't friends anymore. Marital amnesia means that some singles' friends have forgotten the delicate dance of attraction.

That dance of attraction has all of us moving in different directions. Finding someone dancing to the same music who won't step on your toes the whole way through is nearly impossible. Try doing the Electric Slide holding hands with someone who is in the midst of Hammertime and you'll understand better. It goes a lot farther than just dancing to the beat of a different drummer. Sometimes, it's a whole different band.

In any case, my response to her was, "It would just ruin it." She laughed. She didn't understand.

You know, some things are just better left to the imagination. For instance, that chick in the naughty magazine centerfold is hot. But, if you're a man who looks for a little meat with his dessert, you're probably not going to be satisfied with the real person. I'm sure there are some Playboy Bunnies who are Rhodes Scholars. But, I'm also sure that they're few and far between. I'm also sure that it's possible that Dashing Dad's feet stink, he leaves the seat up on the toilet and more. Maybe he has an annoying laugh. Maybe he doesn't have a sense of humor at all. He can only be perfect if he remains a distant image strolling across the parking lot, for the love of 7 for all Mankind, in his tight blue jeans.
Some men, like art, are just made to be admired when you happen to see them. And, that, girls explains why you so often see hot men with ugly women and gorgeous women with dopey guys. Ugly people with ugly people just explains itself.
Sometimes just looking is enough. You know that once he opens his mouth, the fantasy is pretty much over. Some people, like art, are just made to be admired when you happen to see them. Beautiful people often find it hard to find someone who appreciates their beauty outside and their beauty inside. And, that, girls explains why you so often see hot men with ugly women and gorgeous women with dopey guys. Ugly people with ugly people just explains itself.

But what happens if you talk to him and he turns out to be as attractive on the inside as he is on the outside? I've actually gone out with a guy like that since my Singlutant Debut a few years ago. Hell, his clothes looked so good on him that I kind of wanted to be a guy so I could borrow them. He could have worn a trash bag and still been a steaming pile of hotness. No, he wasn't perfect but he was damn near close. That kind of guy is dangerous stuff. Coochy catnip. Hormone heroine. Instant addiction.
This the type of guy that girls jump off bridges for. I'm scared of heights. And, I can't swim well. Therefore, I'm not sure that I should be in that situation to begin with.
This the type of guy that girls jump off bridges for. I'm scared of heights. And, I can't swim well. Therefore, I'm not sure that I should be in that situation to begin with. I'm ill prepared to defend myself against a heartbreak from Mr. Hot Stuff.

In fact, in the past, I never dated guys who made my blood boil and knees wobble just by walking in the room. I mentioned that to a friend recently. I was talking about how, my whole life, I have dated guys who were "safe." By safe, I mean that I never felt off-kilter by attraction. Self-control and self-moderation were never an issue. In fact, in most serious relationships I've had, the guy always loved me more than I loved them. They knew it, sure. I knew it, definitely. I felt horrible about it but it was what it was. I just figured that something in me was broken and I had no idea how to fix it, no matter how badly I wanted to.

There's a certain feeling I get when I meet a guy that I'm really attracted to. It's a face-flushing type of euphoric rush. And, while I'm smitten. I'd never go after him. The vulnerability and exposure scare the hell out of me. "Maybe that's what you're doing wrong," she pointed out. "Maybe," I agreed. She made me evolve with that one simple statement. In that moment, I realized how wrong I've been all of these years. No wonder I've felt unfulfilled. I've been putting the wrong things on my plate! Women need a love that is exciting. But, too often, we settle for a love that is just existing.
Perhaps fear sometimes holds us back from destiny.
Perhaps fear sometimes holds us back from destiny. I will no longer lounge here in my safety net. If a man can't make me feel like I am unable to control my own heart, he's probably not my destiny. I can't wait for the day that my heart breaks free and uses its own mind for once instead of always asking my stupid brain what to do. It would be the first time of my life. And, perhaps, the last time.

Just in case it doesn't end in happily ever after, if you happen to see me on the Tallahatchie Bridge, please stop and lasso me into the backseat of the car. I'll likely be in need of a team intervention and a stiff adult drink.

My soul may be split from stem to stern but I'll be alive...and living. Better than alive... and existing.

5 comments:

  1. I love you Grasshopper. Now if we can all just do that, what progress we will have made!

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  2. I need to borrow someone's kids and get in that carpool line. lol :)

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  3. I'm still laughing. The best line in this one Grasshopper: "Ugly people with ugly people just explains itself." ROFLMAO!!!!

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