Reading Marin's Top Four Kisses All Time post got me thinking...recollecting...fondly reminiscing. I don't think I'm ready to commit to an actual "Top" list of any kind on the matter. Still, here's a story:
Cast your mind back. Remember the 80's? Well in 198- a lovely young, recent university grad got her first theatre job - summer theatre of course - in cottage country Ontario. This would be me. Pardon the 'lovely' but, dammit, I was! I was twenty-four for pity's sake. Anyway after eight weeks of making theatre for unappreciative tourists collectively and one failed romance for me, the company threw it's annual giant bash. I believe the official name of the party was "Oh My God, I'm So Bored Out Here in the Middle of Nowhere This Isn't Fun Anymore and There Are Still Two Weeks Left of This Over-worked, Under-paid, Hell." Or something to that effect.
So, there I am and there he is across the room. He was the bass player. (Yes, I had a thing for musicians. At least I didn't date the actors.) He was sweet and charming and devilish. He was soft spoken and thoughtful and a bad dresser. Killer smile. And he had it going on for me which was delightfully surprising.
Some more drinks and a dance or two and then we're outside taking a walk. I'm telling him all about myself the way one does when one is twenty-four and slightly drunk and walking a small town in the wee hours of August. He's doing the same. Then suddenly I'm aware that I'm not listening to him at all anymore. I'm looking at him thinking that he so obviously wants to kiss me so why the hell doesn't he get on with it? Now he's babbling and will obviously never stop, so I go up on my toes and shut him up with a deep, full body, no hands kiss that lingers and becomes the perfect expression of exactly what we both want right now. When he opens his eyes and looks at me I know his socks are properly knocked off.
Later he said, "We were under a street light!"
Ha ha. All the better to see you my dear.
This morning I had a job interview with two snotty women - well one slightly snotty and the other extremely. I was friendly and on my best behaviour but it went downhill fast.
"Yes, but have you ever done financial analysis?", asked Extremely.
Please. This is a temporary bookkeeping position that pays crap and they expect a chartered accountant? While Slightly was showing me the door, Extremely couldn't be bothered to shake my hand or even smile. She had an ugly haircut too.
I felt crushed for about a minute. Then I thought,
"Yes, but I can de-sock a cute bass player and I'm wearing a beautiful hand-knit top."
Tonight I danced about my smelly house.
4 comments:
Too bad for those wicked women...you rock!
Oh, I have a wonderful memory of a very handsome, very sexy Canadian artist that I spent a good hour exchanging lippage with...under the streetlight in a driveway, leaning against his truck. And in Edmonton, Alberta! Nummy...what great memories. Whoa...that was in 97'. Yikes!
Thanks for sharing your story.
Thanks for visiting my blog and commenting on my scarf, yes that wrap thing was a pain in the butt and hopefully I got it right. I have to think about the wrap thing as I think there is an easier way to do it...the way they did it was just too complicated....at least to my way of thinking..
I believe "I can de-sock a cute bass player" should be the first or second thing on your resume.
Or CV.
Do Canadians have CVs or resumes?
Excellent attitude - way to regain your perspective!
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