I’ve always had a way with women. Even as a teenager, I
somehow always knew exactly the right thing to say to the opposite sex to put
them at their ease and make them want to enjoy intimate relations with me. Oh,
I may not have been the most fashionable boy in sight, or captain of the
football or even debate team, but rarely did I lack a pretty little filly on my arm,
which was very awkward during PE, but worth it! I never learned
self-pleasuring, as I had no need.
My male classmates, especially when we got into the
hormones-kicking-in years, would commonly ask, “John, how do you do it?” I
would answer, “I don’t do, amigo. I am.” This might have got me punched in
the phizzog if not for my potential assailants’ understanding that if they ever so
much as touched me, none of our female classmates would ever speak to them
again, except possibly to demand, “How could
you?”
Most guys who are as adept with the ladies as I suffer a
lot of resentment from others with testicles, but I’ve always been
highly successful in my dealings with my fellow fellows too. Whereas gals, by and
large, want me, their brothers or even husbands want to be me. The atmosphere changes palpably when I enter a room. If you
put me and 11 other dudes who didn’t know each other in a windowless vestibule,
I can pretty much guarantee that I’d have been chosen the whole dozen’s
spokesman and leader within around 20 minutes. Other men just seem to sense my
strength, sort of in the same way that dogs naturally defer to the strongest
and best-looking among them.
Which isn’t, mind you, to assert that I’m the best-looking
guy you’re ever likely to meet. I have an oddly shaped nose, for one thing, and
the decades have filled my above-referenced phizzog, by no means as taut as it once was, with
unsightly creases, crevices, and chasms. And yet when I was in Hua Hing,
Thailand, not 10 years ago, many local women would call, for instance, “Hello,
handsome,” when I went for a little stroll in the ‘hood. In the end, I guess my
incomparable essential, well, maleness always saves the day.
Kids too just naturally seem to love me. Some, years after
the fact, have told told me that I always have an ingratiating twinkle in my eye,
albeit not one suggestive of wanting to touch them inappropriately. The fact
is that all living things seem pretty enthusiastic about me. Since I was old
enough to remember, most breeds of dog, as well as cats, horses, reptiles, and
even fish, have all seemed to enjoy my company. I think they know they’re safe
with me, and that I’m not going to anthropomorphize them as do so many of my
fellow animal-lovers. I work hard to maintain my boyish figure and, as you’ve
read here in the past, am much in demand as an after-dinner speaker, if only in
my own fever dreams.
Of course, I am also popular with inanimate objects. If I
had to speculate, I’d credit my natural grace and thus disinclination to bump
into them or send them crashing to the floor.
I know all this is likely to strike some as self-aggrandizing. I shall
have to find a way to live with that. The good news is that I am nothing if not
adaptable, and I am not adaptable, and yes, I did steal that from Bill Bryson. The
mediocre borrow. The great steal. I must be…on something.
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