Monday, December 15, 2014

It's Wonderful Being I, He Said Grammatically

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.

No comments:

Post a Comment