So... I've met several young guns in the last couple weeks... here's the same quote: "Wow... you are one HOT, older lady!" Hmmmm... that's very nice, but don't you think there's one too many adjectives in that compliment? I do even if it's true. But three times in two weeks with cutie 20 something year olds? I do think that's a full moon crazy theme!
And then there's the very nice older gentleman at the Hilton bar last night that invited me to the hot tub so I could have the benefits of my stay here. Really? I'm purty sure that is NOT on the Hilton Honors web site... Just sayin'!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Playing Catch Up!
So sorry that I haven’t been blogging for the past several months, but now I’m back! So… here’s a synopsis of some of the best of the past few adventures:
• Getting a pedicure one day and had a Colombian lady in stilettos doing my toes. We started chatting about cosmetic surgery and she decides to show me the results of some of her personal cosmetic surgery experiences by flipping out “the girls” during my pedi. It was important for her to let me know about her lack of scarring. That’s lovely… she may not be scarred, but now I certainly am. Yoy! Booby prize of the day!
• And then I met the “Marlboro Man”. Seriously. He’s smoking Marlboros in my favorite dive bar. My group sidles up to the bar and sits by him. He’s tall, dark and definitely good looking with one of those awesome mustaches (God… I love facial hair!) We start chatting it up and sharing our most fabulous information. My friends are getting a little antsy… for them, you can only hear Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” and Janis Joplin so many times, plus it is a little smoky in there (thanks, of course, to my Marlboro man’s contributions), so they are ready to head out. The Marlboro man asks for my card. I hand it over and then he asks if he can kiss me. Absolutely! So we kiss… twice. Until my friends grab my arm and pull me out of the place. Nice kiss(es) though, so I can’t wait until he calls. Um yah… not so much. However, I’ve seen him twice since then (both back at the scene of the original crime) and he just stares at me across the bar. I always say hi and he seems happy to see me but I haven’t heard the phone ring (of fire) yet. Oh well… at least I got to kiss a “smokin’” guy for once!
• And then we met the swingers. If you live that lifestyle, it’s all good. I am not judging, however, this is so not who I am. But it is interesting how a middle aged married man (with his wife) is out on a Sunday night drinking Red Bull, wearing a silver braided necklace, an 80’s groovy hair cut and is flirting with me. Really? His wife is lovely, but obviously they have other plans for me. Oh no … the only swinging I like to do is on the playground or around the dance floor.
• And then I get to California. My first night at the hotel lounge and I order a glass of wine and some dinner, chatting it up with the nice bartender guy. An older guy walks in, sits by me and we start talking. Seems like a nice enough guy. He’s from Denver and does construction. I’m not terribly attracted to this guy, but we’re having a decent conversation… until. He then decides to tell me how he’s married, but in a “dead relationship” (he has no idea that he just spoke the kiss of death for himself.) He decides that I shouldn’t sleep alone that night and how he wants to really get to know my curves on a personal basis. Yoy… apparently it’s been awhile since he’s used any lines. And when I decline, he let me know how wealthy he is and that he can fly me anywhere in the world to meet up with him. Oh man… that is one “baggage fee” that I am not going to pay.
Next? Stay tuned! I'm livin' my own California Adventure for the next couple of months!
• Getting a pedicure one day and had a Colombian lady in stilettos doing my toes. We started chatting about cosmetic surgery and she decides to show me the results of some of her personal cosmetic surgery experiences by flipping out “the girls” during my pedi. It was important for her to let me know about her lack of scarring. That’s lovely… she may not be scarred, but now I certainly am. Yoy! Booby prize of the day!
• And then I met the “Marlboro Man”. Seriously. He’s smoking Marlboros in my favorite dive bar. My group sidles up to the bar and sits by him. He’s tall, dark and definitely good looking with one of those awesome mustaches (God… I love facial hair!) We start chatting it up and sharing our most fabulous information. My friends are getting a little antsy… for them, you can only hear Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” and Janis Joplin so many times, plus it is a little smoky in there (thanks, of course, to my Marlboro man’s contributions), so they are ready to head out. The Marlboro man asks for my card. I hand it over and then he asks if he can kiss me. Absolutely! So we kiss… twice. Until my friends grab my arm and pull me out of the place. Nice kiss(es) though, so I can’t wait until he calls. Um yah… not so much. However, I’ve seen him twice since then (both back at the scene of the original crime) and he just stares at me across the bar. I always say hi and he seems happy to see me but I haven’t heard the phone ring (of fire) yet. Oh well… at least I got to kiss a “smokin’” guy for once!
• And then we met the swingers. If you live that lifestyle, it’s all good. I am not judging, however, this is so not who I am. But it is interesting how a middle aged married man (with his wife) is out on a Sunday night drinking Red Bull, wearing a silver braided necklace, an 80’s groovy hair cut and is flirting with me. Really? His wife is lovely, but obviously they have other plans for me. Oh no … the only swinging I like to do is on the playground or around the dance floor.
• And then I get to California. My first night at the hotel lounge and I order a glass of wine and some dinner, chatting it up with the nice bartender guy. An older guy walks in, sits by me and we start talking. Seems like a nice enough guy. He’s from Denver and does construction. I’m not terribly attracted to this guy, but we’re having a decent conversation… until. He then decides to tell me how he’s married, but in a “dead relationship” (he has no idea that he just spoke the kiss of death for himself.) He decides that I shouldn’t sleep alone that night and how he wants to really get to know my curves on a personal basis. Yoy… apparently it’s been awhile since he’s used any lines. And when I decline, he let me know how wealthy he is and that he can fly me anywhere in the world to meet up with him. Oh man… that is one “baggage fee” that I am not going to pay.
Next? Stay tuned! I'm livin' my own California Adventure for the next couple of months!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
