I'm not a good-looking guy. That is to say, no woman is gonna take one look at me and instantly fall in love with me, craving to be with me every second of the day. To achieve this affect, I will have to trap a woman into my company and then spend months and months making my case. I'll have to show her my personality, my sense of humor. My kindness. I will have to roll out how sensitive I am, yet how tough I am, all while showing her that I am the most brilliant person she's ever met. I will need to save at least one kitten stuck high up in a tree, and I will hafta let her know that about my blocked extra point against Lancaster and my gw-rbi in the 1990 NND championship game. I will have to spend every moment of our days together being at my absolute best for her to fall in love with me.
Meanwhile, yesterday on the train at a stop I casually looked out the window and saw a pair of beautiful, long, tanned legs walking by with a white pleated skirt dancing about 8 inches above the knees walking by. Stunned, I sprung (cough) across the car to get a better look, to see what face came with these legs. No luck, lost in the crowd. I knew absolutely nothing about this person, not even what the upper half of her body and face looked like. But if presented with the opportunity, I would have thrown everything in my life away to make a mix tape for her and love her til they put me in the goddam ground.
1 comment:
Understandable. But supposing, by a slight of the genes, the long tanned legs in the white pleated skirt, belonged to a short trunked woman, the type which meets you face to face when standing but the moment she sits down, is at eye level with your naval?
And what then, should you catch up to find this long legged short trunked woman teetering on the edge of the platform? Would a man of your caliber throw caution to the wind, in the face of an oncoming train, to pull her to safety? What if they were spray tanned orange, but she was adorable? Would you want her then,George?
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