Blunt Force Trauma

 Another week, another nerd-fest on the road.  Surveying the room — 200+ members of Geek Nation in attendance — i was sitting with my friend SR, a proud member of the Dawg Boyz*.  He noticed my new hair cut…

SR:  You’re looking good!  Nice do..

daisyfae:  i swiped the idea from that hot stripper your wife** hooked me up with on our last adventure in Fort Myers…

SR:  I thought it looked familiar.

We caught up on happenings over the past few months.  He wanted an update on my current crop of boy toys gentlemen friends.  After providing the latest scores and highlights, i mentioned the perpetual restlessness that marks my state of mind.  Scanning the room, i said “Hypothetically, let’s say i wanted to get laid at this meeting…  What do you see?”

SR:  I see that you’ve made a terrible career choice!  Holy shit, that would be like me with a terminal boner in a room full of toothless hags!

He helpfully pointed out a few attractive young post-doctoral research types.  “Naaaaah.  Too young.  i’m looking for a recently divorced professor, a little broken and bitter.  Looking for trouble, not romance!”

SR:  Holy FUCK!  That was me ten years ago!  Where were you then?  We missed the window!

We continued to talk shit and horse around during a particularly off-the-wall presentation.  After the talk, a colleague of SR’s walked up to our table in the back of the room, with the intention to throw a few jabs at the prior presentation.  SR introduced me to this unexpectedly non-dorky gent.

SR:  daisyfae?  Have you met Alex?  Alex?  This is daisyfae.  She’s trying to get laid…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

* This is a small, but enthusiastic, troupe of drunken yabs who lead our little corner of the technical community in drinkin’ and whorin’ excursions.

** SR’s wife, GR, is the only other female member of the Dawg Boyz.  She can hold her own.  The last excursion – which she led – was a mere two months after she shelled out twins.  i bow down at her altar….

Dated

Last weekend, i dropped in on a rather festive event… Following the premiere of a locally produced film, the after-party was held at a club downtown.  My friend, joey london (engineer, artist, DJ and eclectician extraordinaire) invited me to join the mash up.  Seems the best dance DJ in the area had planned a special treat, and joey guaranteed it’d be worth the trip.

It was a combination DJ (house/techno), live horn and percussion section on stage, and members of the local contemporary dance company joining forces for a massive throw down!  i went solo, figuring i’d meet up with friendly faces at the club.  The performance?  A complete marvel… the dancers were athletic, creative and gorgeous!  The music?  i couldn’t sit still!

At the end of the show, the dancers dragged us onto the floor for an ‘all skate’, and i hit it hard!  Danced my way through the crowd, hip-hopping with the hip-hoppers and going pogo-rific with the punks!  Fifteen minutes of sheer physical joy before the set finished and the stage was cleared for the next band.

As i stumbled off the dance floor, mopping the sweat from my head, i heard “Damn, woman!  You’ve got some energy!” and turned to see a nice looking young man grinning at me.  He offered to buy me a beer, and joined me at my table.  By way of honest declaration, i let him know that i’m damn near 50.  He didn’t budge… He’s mid-30’s, good looking and athletic.

We talked, and much to my surprise, he was clearly interested in chatting me up.  Asked about a boyfriend… i explained that i’m a bit of a ‘free range chicken’.  He then surprised me with the following question:  “Do you date black men?”  i’m not sure why it surprised me.  i’d accepted a beer, had offered to let him join me at my table…

He looked a little anxious as i slowly formulated my answer: “i date people.  It’s not an issue.” 

We continued to chat, agreed to maybe meet up for reggae, i gave him my number, and headed home.  Post-processing the conversation, i was still a little befuddled by the question.  i guess it makes sense.  Figuring he just wanted to get it out there and save himself a potential headache if it wasn’t in the realm of the plausible.  And i guess there are plenty of women who accept a beer from someone they clearly have no interest in talking to again*… 

i dunno.  i thought we were past this… i was a little put off by his relative youth.  Not his skin color…  Weird…

it's like invisible ink...

* i’ve refused drink offers in bars if it’s simply someone i don’t want to talk to.  i think that’s the right thing to do.  A friend of mine lives by the credo that “I should drink for free!” and is generally successful…  i’ve seen her let all manner of aliens and toothless briars buy her beer.  This shit is still a bit of a mystery to me.  i suck at dating….

Sweet Emotion

Another year, another Valentine’s Day… Hate it.

Last year?  i was annoyed by the unwanted affection of a creepy guitarist in the ensemble for Hair.  As the elder-stateswoman of the tribe during the Be-In, he decided i was the safest target.  He was a 50-something postal worker, and the rest of the cast were 20- and 30-somethings.  He was quite seriously wrong… An “accident” with a 2″ x 4″ during set strike cured him of his misplaced affection.

This year?  Definitely enjoying myself with a small, but enthusiastic, contingent of boy-toys gentlemen friends.  But if any of them takes a step or two down “Romance Road”?  Walking papers, dude. 

So. Not. My. Style.

Swiping some beautiful words from my friend, the Ninjaneer, this is more along the lines of a card i’d like to get…

Though you’re not bright, you’re beautiful!

Like Jennifer Love Hewitt.

I’d love to fuck your brains out…

But someone beat me to it!

Cupid gets it from behind. Film at 11...

Happy VD, folks…  May you get something you want.  Or if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need…