Random Esquire

Server issues going on so an old page is showing. Hang tight, will be resolved soon. 

1.  Churro and I decided that dating someone demonstrates an economic principle: supply and demand.  This came about originally from a conversation I had with Besos almost two months ago in which I told her that I was not ready to date anyone exclusively and she responded, “Knock yourself out.”  That, of course, meant that she’d be doing likewise.  And that made me grunt and heave myself back to my cave to do charcoal drawings on the walls, planning on exactly how to get her to choose me.  And that’s the thing – dating is an economic principle.

There’s only one of each person.  The more people that want that person, the more valuable that person is or seems.  No one wants to be one of two people at the end of the night standing alone who look at each other, shrug their shoulders and say, “Well, I don’t know…no one else is around…let’s make a go of it.”   I know, I know – it is crazy. But that’s my honest gut reaction.   I want to beat others.  I want to win.  I want to be chosen out of many.  Intellectually, I know this is ridiculous.  I don’t do it consciously.  I promise, I’m just subconsciously this stupid.

2.  The other night, I must have had an odd expression on my face because Besos said, “What’s that look mean?”  I asked what she meant.  She said, “Well, you normally have just two looks.”  I asked what they were.  Apparently they are 1) lust and 2) a look that says, “did I just say something wrong?”

3.  While out with Besos, Jenn and QTMama on Saturday night, Jenn stood up from her seat to adjust QT’s bra strap in the back, the tag of which had inched up and was sticking out of her low cut (in the back…and in the front, now that I think about it) shirt.  Jenn sat back down and the tag popped back up QT’s back.  She got back up to tuck it back in.  It came back out.  I stood up and said, “Here…” and then I decided to undo QTMama’s bra.  It just struck me as funny to do the exact opposite of something helpful.  This is a problem I have.  I think the unexpectedly absurd is funny.   At the last moment, better judgment got a hold of me and I didn’t do it but the ladies quickly figured out my plan and laughed at me.

Sooo, yesterday, Besos and I were at lunch and I think we were talking about my obsession with breasts.  She said, “You almost undid another woman’s bra at a bar!” I paused and thought about that. I said, “Is dating me difficult?”

She said, “No.”

I grinned.

She looked at me and said dryly, “It’s …a challenge.”

I said it once and I’ll say it again:   We’ve survived a hurdle.  Namely, my personality.

Why in the world would anyone think that a night out with QTMama would be anything less than adventurous?

1.  If you ever have the good fortune to meet QTMama, you should know something upfront.  If you trip and fall down, she will laugh for 10 minutes before asking if you’re okay.  Jenn, her best friend, had warned me of this.  And, unfortunately, Jenn took a tumble while we were walking around that first night and true to her word, QT burst out laughing and could not stop.  And the truth is, it’s kind of infectious.  Later that night, we saw a girl try to enter a cab and she completely bit it, hitting the pavement and letting out a small cry as she fell.  QT burst out laughing no less than 10 feet away. And that caused everyone around to start laughing.  It’s really quite a thing to see.  Last night, while out dancing, a guy completely did a face plant on the dance floor and QT almost came unglued because while she’d see the guy sprawled on the floor, she missed the actual fall.  Nonetheless,…she laughed.  heh.

And then I realized that I don’t remember the last time I saw someone trip and fall at all and yet, in under 48 hours with QT, I saw three people bite it.  WTF.

2.  QTMama and her friend Jenn coaxed me into going to a strip club.  We knew nothing about this place but we went.  Adventure, right?  We went and the guy behind the counter said that each person pays $30.  For a room.  Minimum tip was $5 or “your girl” won’t dance.  And “everything” was $75.  We backed out slowly.

3.  We were hanging out in a bar at a table with a group of people we’d met earlier in the evening and someone finally asked the question…”How do you guys know each other?”  QTMama responded by telling them that I was her attorney.  I then asked QTMama if she’d called her parole officer before leaving the state.  She said no.  This garnered some quiet interest.  At one point, QTMama stepped away from the table and I leaned over to one of the guys and said, “You want to know what she did?”  He nodded eagerly.  I whispered, “Her husband cheated on her. So she stabbed him. But it didn’t kill him.”

I like that telling a complete lie about how QT stabbed someone was preferable to bothering to explain the whole blogging connection.

Meg Ryan is very down to earth and far prettier in person than you’d expect.

Okay, so that’s not really Meg Ryan.  And it wasn’t a date.  But it could be Meg Ryan. About 20 years ago.  Before she was over plasticized.  You know. When she was cute.  Quite appropriately then,…this is QTMama who certainly lives up to her moniker.

I met QTMama and her friend, Jenn, last night.  We drank, laughed, and ate our way through a good four hours before walking to an Irish pub for more drinks and laughter.   Here’s QTMama’s re-cap of the evening.  Tonight is dinner and dancing.   Some small shots from last night.

QTMama holding her drink:

After dinner drinks, one of which QTMama aptly identified as reminiscent of the scent of her grandfather’s garage. Damned if that wasn’t spot on.  One was coffee based, another slightly sweeter and mild and the last had enough capsaicin in it to make me cough just from sipping it.

Off to stir up more trouble with the ladies.

1.  I love how we can carbon date the Shroud of Turin but can’t figure out how old a couple of Chinese gymnasts are.

2.  The Italian called me on Monday very excited.  It seems he’d found a new porn website that featured Latin women.  I asked him, “If a woman that young and that attractive hit on you, would you sleep with her?”  He said, “If I got a woman that hot, it’d be because she wanted to steal my car.”  I burst out laughing.

3.  ‘Cleavage’ is sort of a harsh sounding word to describe something so good, isn’t it?  Couldn’t someone come up with a better word than something that sounds like you split open a dinner roll?  or chopped something in half?

4.  Besos described our relationship as a constant state of half amusement, half embarrassment.  Hmm.  I wonder which half I am.

5.  Have you ever had someone tell you a sexual fantasy and it was, more or less, one of your sexual fantasies as well?  And you were stunned at your good fortune?  And then you blinked and wondered if you were on some twisted version of Candid Camera?  Anyone?

no?

1.  I tried tamarinds this weekend.  Besos cracked open the pod and I bit off some of the sticky fruit.  Then I shuddered as drool drained out my mouth.  Okay, that’s not entirely accurate – but it was damn sour.  I can’t believe that I hadn’t had it before.  Then I decided that I wanted to eat more things that I’d never eaten before.  So I tried menudo.  Only, I found out later that Besos had told the server that I was a novice and so some things were left out of the soup.  I demanded to eat whatever was omitted so the server brought me a bowl with a calf’s foot in it, which I ate bits of while Besos cringed.  And then I ate a taco…with tongue.  That’s right. A tongue chunk taco.  Again, Besos cringed and shuddered.  What else should I try?

2.  The local newscast showed a bar where supporters were cheering on an Olympic athlete from a neighboring town.  They interviewed a woman and I did a double take at her.  She had the deepest vertical wrinkle I’d ever seen between her eyes.  It looked like a slot for a vending machine and I wondered if anyone was ever tempted to slide a quarter into her forehead.

3.  I’m officially a photographer (I guess) in that I’m going to get paid for some photographs.  Which is ironic.  Because LynchSeattle had to explain what an F-Stop was to me just last week.  How about that. I’m like a half-ass idiot-savant.

[Edited to add:  Just spoke with Besos and now I'm disturbed I picked at the calf foot.  I don't like the idea of eating something that probably stepped in its own feces.  Or anyone or anything else's feces, for that matter.  Yeah, probably no more foot for me.]

Well!  The Seattle crew rolled in last night and we enjoyed some Chicago pizza.  Besos then joined us and we headed to a bar to get blynched.  Tonight, I will be taking Bev to a seafood tasting where she will get blynched on wine and then we will head over to meet the rest of the crew for French food and more blynching.  Boss, Plush, and Instigator will be joining us.

Instigator IM’d me this morning and asked what she should wear.  I told her about the place.  She then asked what Plush would wear.  Then what Boss would wear.  I told her my reasonable guesses for each.  About an hour later, she sent me another IM:  “I’m still trying to decide what to wear. This is important. Plush will wear a dress and Boss will wear what again? It’s all about the clothes.”

I said, “Honestly, now you really do sound like a girlfriend.”

She said, “Actually – it’s all about the shoes.”

I once again described the attire.  She said, “I’m looking forward to dinner tonight!”  I said I was, too.

She said, “Well, you should - you have three dates.”

Touche.