Overcoming the Dinosaur Brain

The workshop ended at noon, and after another hour lazing by the Atlantic, i wandered into the poolside restaurant for a late lunch.  Ordered a Mediterranean tapas plate, glass of pinot grigot and settled in with my book at a table with an ocean view.

Slow, late lunch crowd.  Other than an older couple at the bar and a chatty pair of women across the restaurant, the place was virtually deserted.  Sitting alone in a restaurant doesn’t bother me much, so i returned to my book.

They wandered in, looking a little lost.  Him?  Late 20’s, dark, frothy hair, smart-boy glasses and a chin that was inexplicably recessed and strong, with a cleft covered in 24 hours worth of stubble.  Just a shade short of handsome, he looked pretty average. 

Her?  Natural blond, porcelain complexion and a perpetual scowl on her face.  Fine features, high cheekbones – she’d be almost beautiful, except for the slight ‘pan-face’ structure.

Attractive enough couple that i’d watch their amateur porn videos for free, but probably wouldn’t pay for it…

Seating themselves at a table near mine, they snuggled over the menu and placed an order with the barkeep.  Having chatted up this barkeep previously about varieties of Puerto Rican rum, he stopped by to bring me a fresh glass of wine for free.  Nice buzz developing…

One of five restaurants in an extensive resort hotel complex, the service hasn’t been particularly swift.  i returned to my book.  Out of the corner of my eye, i noticed that she had sprawled out on the long bench seat, resting her head in his lap.

He draped his right arm over her neck, reaching back with his hand, gently stroked her blond hair.  Cradling her head in his lap, he picked up his book in his left hand – a 3 inch thick Tom Clancy brick* – and began to read.  He continued to stroke her hair in an absent minded manner. 

Like a lightning bolt from a clear blue sky, there it was.  An alien thought appeared in my brain – so striking in its abnormality that it flashed brightly, demanding my attention like a high definition billboard.

“i want my head cradled like that.”

What?  Where the fuck did that come from?  Me?  Her Royal Highness, The Ice Queen?  She Who Doesn’t Cuddle?  Ms. Independent “Boy Toy Collector”?

i was startled enough to almost drop my book.  Yep.  That very thought appeared in my head.  Couldn’t deny it.  Trying to get my head back in my book, that pesky little thought nugget wouldn’t let go…

At the moment, i have no interest in being half of a couple.  i like flying solo, have sufficient companionship to keep me entertained – and non-cranky.  Life really is good.  But, despite rumors, and my own violent protestations, i have to admit it:  i am, in fact, a human animal.

Biology is a powerful motherfucking force.  We are driven to couple – despite the fact that my eggs are on the verge of becoming dust particles, the limbic system still says “MATE, MATE, MATE”. 

Thankfully, the bartender delivered a plate of olives, hard cheeses, bread, prosciutto and tomatoes – along with another glass of wine.  Dinosaur brain is no match for copious amounts of alcohol…

* Had to look it up.  Executive Orders.  1376 pages, 1.2 pounds, dimensions: 6.9 x 4.3 x 2 inches.  Not quite 3 inches thick, but close enough…

How to jack up your blog stats…

First?  Write a post about groundhogs attacking your office building…  Be sure to include a goofy picture of a groundhog.

Sit back, wait a few months – and then right around Groundhog Day, you’ll magically see a spike in your blog stats.  Like from 150-250/day to 1600.  i had to check via google image searches to see for sure that’s what was going on…

Stay tuned for my posts on the local wetlands conservation efforts.  Gotta love those wet beavers…

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