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~Chelsea~

The Chief, part 3

I would get through the weekend with him. He was like a gleeful child when I said yes. The sad puppy dog look was gone from his face. We continued the drive to the restaurant in silence.

Chief knew of my weakness for authentic Mexican food. It was no surprise where he took me. He held my hand as we walked from the car. Chief has always been a gentleman with the ladies. I must admit this is my favorite part about him. That and he is very easy to talk to. I never hold back what is on my mind with him. It’s disturbing at best.

Small talk was made over dinner. Neither of us could ask certain questions about each others' work and I really didn’t feel like talking about the past. Talking about Chuck was a touchy subject. One that left me in tears more often than not. We discussed future plans, vacations, places we’ve been, his kids, Hannah’s girls, and what to do this coming weekend. In any event, I didn’t want to get into a deep conversation.

He dropped me off at the barracks after dinner. Generally, I stay in the officer’s barracks or in transient housing at the various stations. I’m not there long enough to get a short-term apartment and hotels are not part of my expense account. One thing was for certain, I wasn’t going to have to worry about having a place to stay this weekend.

I woke up the next morning to a pounding on my door. It was Chief, waking me up for breakfast. Good thing he did too, because I was running late. I forgot to turn my cell phone back on after dinner. I just stared at him groggily.

“Wow, good morning. Who did you fuck last night that you forgot to take your clothes off?” Chief was chuckling at my mussed state.
“Bite it.” I couldn’t help but look down at myself. I didn’t bother getting undressed before climbing into bed.
“You know, we could have breakfast here.”
I knew what he was implying. But no way. Not there.
“Uh, I’m going to grab something from the Exchange Mall. I should be good.”
“Let me give you a ride over there.”
“Sure, I gotta pull myself together and change my clothes. Oh, thanks for waking me. I would have been super late otherwise.”
“No problem. We won’t need any wake up calls this weekend.” A huge grin was plastered on his face.
“I’m sure we won’t. I’ll be ready in a second.”
“Oh really? What did you have in mind?”
I casually skirted the question. “I haven’t given it much thought. I could use some sleep. Jet lag is catching up to me.”
“Sleep, okay. I’m sure we can fit that in.”
“Let’s go.” I rolled my eyes.

After a long day of work and fielding some troubleshooting questions for another location, Chief was waiting for me outside my office. He took me back to my room and helped me pack up before turning in the room keys to housing.

Chief looked at me and said, “I was thinking we could drop your stuff off at my place, then figure out dinner.”
“I’m tired. We can always order in.”
“Yes we can.”

We dropped the keys off and I signed out of the barracks. I needed to go by the base Commander’s office to drop off a report and then we would be on our way. My favorite Lady Gaga song was playing in the car. I turned it up loud and sang along. I didn’t care who heard me. Who knows what the Chief was thinking when I did that. He was just laughing at me because I’m sure I was quite an interesting sight to behold. I was nervous. I knew what was coming up. I had it in my head that I was just going to give him what he wanted and then call it good. It’s not like I’m in a relationship with him or any other guy.

The Sailor, part 1

I met Sailor when I was in my teens. He was a friend of a friend of a friend. Sailor was green from boot camp and getting ready to go to school for his specialty. He wasn’t quite 6 feet tall, which was a prerequisite for getting into bed with me, but he had these intense blue eyes that made me melt every time he looked at me.

Yes, I know. This is the second chapter about a man in a uniform. There’s another chapter coming on another one too, but it’s not the U.S. Navy. Bear with me. I will admit to having a fetish about a man in a uniform. There is something about the Cracker Jack look that gets me wet between the thighs. I turn into a fountain and can have an orgasm just from looking at a gorgeous sailor. Call me a hussy if you want. At least I am not afraid to speak my mind and loudly admit that I know what I want. I usually get it too.

Sailor was in town for the weekend. He lived on the other side of the state but came to my hometown just to see me. He called me late one night. My dad answered the phone. Sailor politely asked my father if I could come see him for a bit. Dad consented, then came downstairs to my room and woke me up. Dad handed me a piece of paper with Sailor’s hotel information and the keys to his truck. Mom wasn’t home and it was a rare moment where Dad supported my escape from this life.

I was gone in a flash.

Sailor was waiting for me. He had the door opened a crack so I could just walk in. I felt weird. Normally I exert a tremendous amount of control when it comes to men but there was a pull I had never felt before. I was drawn to him but I couldn’t explain the feelings at that time. I had only known him for a couple of weeks before this.

I completely closed the door and stood with my back against it for a moment. My eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room. I took my jacket off and hung it on the back of the chair where I set my purse. It was quiet. The only sounds were of the cicadas outside and Sailor’s steady breaths. He was watching me from the bed. I took my shoes off and laid down next to him.

We just stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Time had slowly passed by. I didn’t care. I didn’t have a curfew to worry about. Dad would have called if he needed his truck. I’m glad he didn’t. It would have ruined a very special moment.

Neither of us spoke any time soon. It was if we were communicating telepathically. I felt him reading my inner most thoughts. Sailor reached out to pull me closer. I was in the confines of his warm embrace and I was so relaxed. His lips met mine with tender passion. It would be the most perfect kiss of my entire life. Words could not describe the tremors that ripped through my body from that one kiss. I didn’t know I would be forever affected by this man.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEB!!!

Please join me in wishing one of my faithful readers a happy 30th birthday! May you have a blessed day!

~<3 Chels @>--

The Boy Next Door, part 2

I couldn’t call him. I could call him. I couldn’t call him. I went back and forth for those days. I was too shy to call him. What would I say? Uh, um, hi, I talked to your mom the other day? How foolish would that sound? I liked him. I mean really, really liked him! I knew I couldn’t get past saying hello without feeling flustered and tongue-tied.

I took his number down and threw it in the trash. My nerves calmed a bit after that. Little did I know how short my reprieve would be…

*************

Boy called when I got back to school.

I wasn’t expecting the phone to be him. I was scheduled as the “on-call” tech for the weekend. I was sitting at the campus café when my phone rang. The caller id said “unavailable”, causing me to hesitate in answering.

“Hello?” I finally answered.
“Um, hello. Is Chelsea there?” A man’s voice replied. I didn’t recognize it.
“This is her. Who is this?”
“It’s Boy.”
I damned near dropped the phone. I was shocked. How did he get my number? I know for a fact that I didn’t give it to his mom. Holy crikes! I had to react quick so he couldn’t see my shock and nervousness.
“Oh, hi. How are you?” I started drumming my fingers on the table. I couldn’t even focus on the pages of my text.
“I’m good. What about you?” He answered.
“I’m just busy as usual. Constantly on the go. School does that.”
“I, uh, I wanted to call…”
I could tell he was nervous. Maybe even more nervous than I was.
“Yes?” I was impatient when I was nervous.
“I wanted to call you to tell you my mother is getting remarried.”
“That’s awesome for her! When?”
“In August. Would you like me to send you an invitation?”
“Sure, why not. I’m sure I can figure out something in getting there.”
“Would you be my date?” He was so nervous in asking that his voice stammered.
I was dumbfounded. I had no idea what he was thinking.

*************

The wedding invitation came a few days later. Wouldn’t you know it but the date was a couple of weeks before school started? I couldn’t get out of it. I couldn’t figure out a way to say no to Boy. What the heck? You only live once. I figured it might be my only chance to see what might happen with him.

A typical girl would worry about finding the perfect dress to wear to a wedding, especially if she had a date. Not me. It was an outdoor wedding with people I grew up with. Not a big deal in my book. The only problem was Boy. I was his date. We chatted briefly about what time he was picking me up. I wanted to be ready on time. It wasn’t my day and I didn’t feel it would be appropriate to be fashionably late. As expected, I was visibly nervous. A shot of whiskey didn’t help calm my nerves.

Boy arrived right on time. My mother greeted him when she opened the door to the sweltering summer heat.
“You look beautiful. I like your dress.” He stammered nervously.
Maybe he should have had my shot of whisky, I thought to myself.
I blushed. “Thank you.” I wasn’t used to compliments from a guy.

He opened the car door for me and made sure I could get my seatbelt on before settling into the driver’s seat. He drove a 6-speed Firebird. It was that funky green iridescent color that couldn’t decide what color it actually was. I appreciated that Boy turned on the air conditioning. I didn’t want to melt before the wedding. We chatted lightly to hide our nervousness.
“I have to stand with my brothers after I walk you to your seat.”
“Oh, ok,” I replied.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I’m walking my mom down the aisle.”
I couldn’t suppress a giggle. “It’s fine. I understand.”
“I’ll be with you for the rest of it, that cool?”
Did I mention how much I liked when Boy smiled? I do. “I’m fine with that. How are you doing?”
“I’m good. Work keeps me busy. How’s life in Virginia?”
“That’s good. School starts back up in a couple of weeks. I’m leaving in a few days.”
“Cool, but you didn’t say how life is,” he said.
“Hmmmm… It’s boring, I guess. Not much to do outside of the college scene. All I do is study, eat, sleep, and study. I’m an RA this year so things might change.”
“RA? What’s that?”
“Resident advisor. I have to live in the dorm and supervise a bunch of incoming freshman.”
“Cool. We’re here. I’ll get your door.”
Boy quickly jumped out and opened the door for me. He held my hand and led me to the room where his mom was so I could say hello to her before escorting me to my seat. His brothers were arguing loudly when we got to the room. Boy abruptly put an end to the argument with a few quiet words. I felt uncomfortable for a moment but the feeling dissipated when his mom hugged me. I gave my congratulations and then left the room to sit with the other guests.

The wedding lasted into the cool night. I was grateful that it wasn’t an all day event. I danced a few slow dances with Boy. I was impressed that he could dance. It was getting late and I was getting tired so he offered to take me home. We said our goodbyes to the newlyweds and left.

Nobody was home when Boy and I got to my mother’s house. I invited him in, to which he declined. Instead, we stood on the porch and he kissed me gently.

The Chief, part 2

I knew my luck was going to run out eventually. I ended up with an assignment on Chief’s base. I couldn’t avoid him. I didn’t have the heart to tell him no when he asked me to dinner. We had been friends for over 10 years. He knew how to get under my skin. He knew how to corner me so I couldn’t deny him his request.

I felt so weak.

Every location I go to, I am given a private office. I don’t spend much time in it as I oversee many of the systems as they are being used.

Chief was waiting for me outside my office the day after I arrived. I hadn’t told him I was going to be there. One of his friends was bragging about the new chick on base. I overheard the talk and I was not a happy camper. I didn’t have time to prepare myself for seeing him.

“Hey, when were you going to tell me you were here?” was all he said as he stared at my boobs.
“Oh hey. I was going to call you when I finished working here.” I replied. Translate that to mean “I was going to call you once I left this station.” I had no intention of calling him.
“So can we go to dinner tonight? You gotta eat.”
“Yeah, I do have to eat. But I don’t know when I’ll be done with stuff here.” I hated lying to him but I didn’t want to sit through the evening with his tentacles all over me, feeling me up.
“So is that a yes?” He looks at me hopefully.
“Yes, it’s a yes.” I sigh. See what I mean about black & white?

Chief really is a nice guy! A lot of girls are attracted to him. When I’m in the room, on the phone with him, or chatting via messenger, no one else exists. He is completely oblivious to them. Even if I point them out!

My supervisor calls me later and tells me to take the weekend off. I’m not needed at my next station for another 2 weeks. The project has been delayed, he says. Great, so I’m stuck, in this hell hole, with Chief. I knew, I just knew what was going to happen.

As we’re going to dinner, Chief asks me what is on my mind.
“Nothing, really,” I replied, knowing full well that I didn’t want to concede to the upcoming conversation.
“Hmmm… I know you better than that, so spill it.”
Fudge, I think to myself. Might as well agree and get it over with. Good thing I can fake it so well.
“My next project is in delay mode. I’m not real happy about it,” I sighed.
“So, what does that mean?” He was grinning.
“That means I’m stuck here for a while.” I examined him with my peripheral vision and could read his mind just by the expression on his face.
“Awesome! Want to spend the weekend at my place?”
“Not really but I will.”
“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that.”
“What? I just said I will spend the weekend with you. Now you are getting your dream.”
“True, true. Well put.”
“I just don’t get your obsession with me.”
“You are amazing! So wild, free, and I love that you love sex!”
I couldn’t help but join him in laughter. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I could just be an uber bitch and set aside the fact that I didn’t feel any chemistry with Chief at all. His obsession with me rankled me at times. How could he not feel the lack of chemistry?

The Boy Next Door, part 1

Boy lived next door for as long as I can remember. He is a few years older than I am. He was my very first crush. He was tall and muscular, with dark hair. His eyes felt like could bore holes into you. Boy always looked at everything with a deep intensity. Always sent shivers down my spine.

At first, I never bothered with him. He was a boy and boys had cooties. Hey! I was only 10! Boy had two younger brothers also. I didn’t give much thought to the whole scene. Girls weren’t supposed to play with boys but there was no one else on my block to play with.

Boy’s cousin was always over. I would sit on the porch, secretly watching them from behind a book as they tossed a football back and forth. I thought Boy was the most amazing guy I had ever met. His cousin was a jerk. Cousin would make prank calls to our house. My mother almost always answered.

“Hello?” She answered.
“I want to feel your boobs.” A low, throaty sounding voice would come across the line.
“What? Who is this?” was her reply. It was almost like a game.
“I will pay you to feel your boobs.” The voice responded back.

She simply hung up the phone. By the second time the call happened, she knew who it was and told his mother. The calls kept coming anyways. One night, she decided to play his game.

“Hello.”
“I want to feel your boobs.” He said
“Oh really now?” She laughed.
“I will pay you twenty thousand dollars to feel your boobs.”
“Ok, come on over!” She emphatically answered.

My mother held the phone for just a moment, listening for the confirming click that Cousin hung up the phone. She finally told me who it was and we both had a good laugh.

But Cousin never interested me. I had moon-eyes for Boy. I still do but I’ll get to that.

Boy and I never went to school together despite living next door to each other. That’s fine. I didn’t exist to him. Once I got to high school, all of that changed. Of course I wasn’t this fat, awkward and clumsy little girl anymore. Boy had filled out just as nicely. Our social circles never crossed paths as he was a couple of grades higher than I was. But I was still gaga for him.

On nice days, Boy could be found tossing a football outside, with Cousin, in front of my house. I would park my mother’s car on the lawn and wash it. I would wear a bikini just to get his attention. No such luck. He didn’t look at me twice. That is how I spent my teenage years, pining for him. After he graduated from high school, I only saw him on rare occasions when he would come to visit his mom.

I came home for my brother’s high school graduation. Boy’s family had moved to another city about an hour away. Anyhow, I ran into Boy’s mother and chatted with her for a bit over coffee. Of course we’re going to talk about Boy! I never let on that I liked him so much. I didn’t feel it was right to tell her something like that. Instead, she told me about the things that happened with all of her boys. I was only interested in Boy.

His mom talked. I listened. I was surprised to hear some things about Boy. Some things didn’t surprise me. Still, I was glad to hear that he was doing well overall. She told me how to get in touch with him before we parted. I went home with his phone number in my wallet.

I taped the piece of paper to my laptop screen and stared at it for 3 days.

The Chief, part 1

I’ve known the Chief since I was in my teens. He was my late boyfriend’s roommate before Chuck passed. Chief never held much interest in me until much later, after I had officially become an adult. It was a simple letter that triggered the unexpected response.

I wrote a very provocative letter to Chuck. It was for Chuck’s eyes only but never stayed that way. He had the audacity to show it to a few of his friends! I was incredibly furious about this but I couldn't do anything about it being 2000 miles away. Next thing that happens is Chuck’s footlocker was broken into and the letter went missing.

Some of the guys knew who I was. Chuck had a big mouth and talked about our sex life. I was flattered and embarrassed all at the same time. I didn’t want the attention. The catcalls, the wolf whistles, and the come-ons. I couldn’t tell who was serious and who just wanted in my pants, due to my young age and lack of experience. I couldn’t handle it nor did I know what to do in response. I was still very shy and had limited experience.

Meeting the Chief intrigued me. He was different yet the same as his letters. I felt naked under his intense stare. Might as well just take off my clothes and walk down the street naked. Chuck warned me about the Chief and his blatant desire for me. What did I do merit that kind of attention from anyone?

I allowed the Chief to write me letters while I was attending college. He knew what kind of school it was but managed to slip some eye-raising words on to paper. It fueled my frustration with celibacy and eventually turned me into a wanton hussy. I didn’t get it. I wasn’t attracted to Chief sexually.

Chief was half-black and half-Mexican. It wasn’t because of his race that I wasn’t attracted to him. I like chocolate. Maybe it was the way he stared at me so intently. As if he was trying to read my mind and figure me out. Maybe it was his formal attitude. Everything was black & white with the Chief. No gray in the middle. Well, he is a sailor after all.

He gives the impression that he is much wiser beyond his years. Maybe it’s his mentality that I don’t like? I get the feeling that he is too serious all the time. Chief’s demeanor rarely changes and I rarely see him smile. I need someone who doesn’t take life so seriously. There you have it!

Chief would ask me on a regular basis if I would come spend a weekend with him. I had denied him for the longest time and was hoping to continue avoiding the questions. It’s so hard to want to spend a weekend with someone when you’re not attracted to him. I have nothing besides platonic feelings for him. Strictly platonic. Your psyche knows when you are attracted to someone. I just wasn’t attracted to him no matter how hard I tried to be.




******* Leave me some love. The more readers I have, the faster the posts will come. How much, is all up to you!*******

Who Is Chelsea?

I will attest to being a unique breed of womanhood. I have no idea why or how this has happened but it's the reality of my life. I don't do anything out of the ordinary. Yet, I garner the attention of men everywhere. Looks? HA! I have mousy brown hair speckled with gray and dark brown eyes. Not in the least what you would call attractive. Definitely not in the same category with Julia Roberts or, who's the latest cover of Maxim? Megan Fox. I could only wish I had her youth! Instead, I'm approaching my mid-30's with gusto. Could I have her body too? Anything would be better than the elephant trunks I have attached to my hips and the shelf that is where my ass should be. Does that suffice for a mental picture of me?

On my good days, I'll throw on some makeup. The average woman spends two to three hours in front of a mirror, primping and preening to face the day. It doesn't matter if they are stay-at-home mommies or boss-of-the-year, the average woman has to wear makeup, style their hair, and make sure their socks match. Me? I spend 5 minutes on hair and makeup. Five minutes max. As a teenager, my mother drove me nuts about wearing makeup. I wasn't allowed to leave the house without an inch of that gunk on. It didn't matter that it was 3:30 in the morning and I was on my way to swim practice. Who in the world was going to care about makeup at that ungodly hour? Especially in a pool with other girls? Now, I could care less about wearing makeup. The most I have on my face is lip gloss. Grandma used to say that a woman was only fully dressed when she had lipstick on. Go Grandma! She was my biggest cheerleader in combating my mother's idealistic fantasies about girlhood.

My mother was the Prom Queen. She participated in beauty pageants. She was voted “most popular” in high school and married her high school sweetheart, my father. Dear old Dad was not one to tell my mother no in any fashion. What she wanted, she got. She wanted two children, one of each. Got it. She wanted a nice house in the suburbs. Got it. She didn't want to work. She didn't. She spent her days hanging with her girlfriends, shopping, lunching, and who knows what else. Dad busted his ass to give her everything she wanted. It wore him down. It killed him. Dad died shortly after I graduated college the first time. I guess he felt that I could take care of myself so he let go. I knew he was staying because of us kids. At my graduation, I told him it was okay to move on and that he didn't have to stay. I had gotten pretty good about taking care of myself by then. My brother was still a child. There was 10 years between us, so he was only 12 when Dad died.

I couldn't go home. I was free. My dreams involved the west coast and pure sunshine. Florida would have sufficed too. Anywhere but the Midwest. I hated the snow and cold. The gloomy dreariness of it all. Being around my mother for the days before and after the funeral was just awful. People attended Dad's funeral to say goodbye and to celebrate his life. He was very loved by the community. Neighbors could count on him to help when needed. He even led my brother's Boy Scout troop and helped the Girl Scouts set up their campsites at the yearly Jamboree. I don't remember him missing a single swim meet, whether I was swimming or not. Dad was always there for us kids. It's what I remember most about him.

His death was the end of a cycle. I knew then I could do what I wanted, without having to fight my mother. My mother wanted me to live at home while going to school. I choose a school out of state. Liberty University was still not far enough away. She called me every day. To make sure I was dressed properly with makeup on. To inquire if I was getting enough to eat and if I was coming home for the holidays. To know about the boys I've met and if I was dating. My social life was the most important thing to her. She even had the audacity to ask if I was having sex. My mother said she would send me some condoms if I needed them. CONDOMS!!! At a CHRISTIAN university!!!!! Holy jeepers! What in the world was she thinking? Don't answer that. I'll tell you what she was thinking. She was hoping I wouldn't have children. That would make her a grandmother and she didn't want to get older. I wasn't a virgin by any means but that doesn't mean I wasn't behaving myself. I liked Liberty and didn't want to risk getting kicked out of a conservative university.

My decision to attend Liberty stemmed from the one person who has been a constant figure in my life – my 6th grade Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Dean. She was the one person I could trust with everything in my life and knew I would never have to face judgment. I needed direction in my life and she provided it. Mrs. Dean was there when my mother wasn't. She was the substitute mom that I desperately wanted. For the most part, I stayed on the straight-and-narrow. I didn't drink. I didn't do drugs. At least not at that point. I had 4 years of celibacy. It was the longest and most difficult period of my life. I was a total bitch during that time. I had no idea why.

My weakness is men. I liked freedom and men. I still like freedom and men.

Like a sailor, I have a guy in every port. Okay, so maybe the male sailors have a girl in every port. I'll get to that bit. This is about me. You need to know who I am before you can figure out the rest. I feel like Samantha from Sex and the City most days. That was Kim Cattrall's character. She does it so well. My attitude can be very cavalier when it comes to men. I expect certain things. One of my girlfriends, Jessica, sums it up well. She likes to say, “Treat me like a queen in public but a whore in the bedroom.” Isn't that a delicious thought? I want a guy's respect in the morning. If I don't get it, I get bored and he gets discarded like yesterday's trash. Makes for a lot of one-night stands.

Men use women so why can’t I use a man?

I’m sitting here at my desk, listening to “Nickajack Cave” by Gary Allen. Such a mellow song by an incredibly sexy man. I’m just finalizing some paperwork in order to get paid. I’ve never worked for a company that did so much paperwork. I have to fill out a form just to sneeze. It’s ridiculous. What can I say? I work for a bunch of politicians who believe in the chain of command. I love my job. I’m in a different place every month. What do I do? I’m a computer analyst for the Department of Defense. That’s all I can say about my job. Wait, I can say a little bit more. I get to travel extensively; to places people would never think of going. I have spent time on ships at sea. I have an apartment I see once every 4 to 6 months. I haven’t talked to my mother in years and the last time I saw my brother was when he graduated high school. I talk to my best friend at least once a week, otherwise I’d go stir crazy.

Hannah is married and living the good life in California. She’s been my best friend and confidant for as long as I can remember. She’s a straight-shooter. She tells me when I’m making a mess of things. In that same breath, Hannah will tell me that I need to find a decent guy and settle down. I can’t help but laugh. Husbands and babies are not for everyone.

"You shouldn’t be alone so much.”
"Hi Hannah. How are you?” is my reply.

Never a hello, hi, or what’s up from Hannah. It’s normal for her to start a conversation without a greeting or where we left off previously.

"They want to know when auntie is coming to visit.”
"Let me look. I have it marked on the calendar… May.”

May, she tells the kids. I can hear them cheering in the background.
"Have plans changed? Do they still want to go to Disneyland? Or someplace else?”
"We took them at Christmas. It was a zoo. You have anywhere else in mind?”
"Hawaii, Seattle, Bahamas… Do you know where their passports are?”

I take the girls on vacation with me every year. If only to give Hannah and her husband a break. The girls loved it. They are 13 and 10 and call me “Auntie Chels”. I bought them passports one year so we could vacation in Mexico. It was a great time.

This is an advantage of my job. I make a lot of money and have no one to spend it on. Except for the girls. We never stay in my apartment either. We always go somewhere different each year. Last year was Florida, the year before was a Caribbean cruise.

"Katie wants to go to Washington. She’s on a Twilight kick,” Hannah sighs. “Wait, now she’s saying Italy.”
"Okay, tell them they have 2 days to decide then I’ll make the arrangements.”
"Sure thing!” she laughs, knowing that the girls will change their minds like 10 million times before then.
"I have to run, I’m being paged,” was all I could say.
"Wait, where are you?”

I didn’t bother to answer. She knows better than to ask that question.

There was a time when I was selective about the men in my life. The badder the boy was, the more I wanted him. I wanted the men I couldn’t have. Or could I? The problem was I didn’t believe I could. I lacked self-confidence and had an “I don’t give a crap” attitude. Since I didn’t think I could get the guy I wanted, I settled for the bottom of the barrel. Whoa! I just classified men!

I’ll say it again. I am ordinary. I’ve gotten fearless in my wise old age but I am nothing special. Men do not look at me and go, “WOW! I have to get her number!” No, no. Men look at me and keep walking. That doesn’t mean I haven’t had my fair share of men. It’s not difficult to pick up a drunk guy in a bar. Or the sleazy jackhole who is bored with his wife. Oh yes. I’ve had a few of those.

I like men. All of them. I’m selfish enough to say that I want them all. The world is my smorgasbord. Now, I am picky enough to say that I have a high standard of hygiene. If a man hasn’t bathed in the last 24 hours, it’s a complete pass and I won’t waste my time. So, he must be clean from head to toe. That includes not wearing any clothes from the hamper because he conveniently “forgot” to do laundry. Please, dude, have some class.

If he’s a fall-down-drunk, I’ll pass on that too. I’m nobody’s mom and I refuse to clean anyone up if they get sick. Men can be such big babies when they’re sick. That’s what I like best about living alone. I’m not responsible for anyone else. I don’t have to clean up after anyone. I don’t have to deal with anyone’s drama. I can come and go as I please. Is it lonely? Sure but I have learned how to entertain myself.

Oh, he absolutely must have a job. I don’t know what it is but if he’s not working, I’m not interested. Dealing drugs is not a job. He must have gainful, legal employment. If I wanted to be a sugar momma, I would be Kelly Lynch’s character in Curly Sue. I’d pluck some homeless guy off the street and pay to clean him up. No thanks!

The last thing I want is a mooch who sits on his ass all day watching ESPN, Versus, or FSN while I’m busting my butt. That would not bode well with me considering how much I travel. Might explain why I’ve never had a relationship last longer than six months. It gives a man too many opportunities to cheat. Completely not my style.

I’ve got no qualms about sitting in front of a television on a Sunday afternoon watching football, hockey, or baseball. I’ll even have the loudest mouth in the stadium. Nothing gets my blood pumping more than an adrenaline-filled day watching a hockey game. Taking me to see my favorite hockey team play is a guarantee a guy is going to get laid. Football, maybe not so much.

When there is a sporting event on and I’m the only female in the room, I get treated like one of the guys. That is never a problem. Most of the guys in my life talk to me about their women problems. Women are rarely a problem. It’s that guys have no clue how to deal with them. There are no instruction manuals when it comes to the fairer sex. Men are much easier to read.