My husband is a tolerant open minded man.
We have the kind of marriage where we can point out exceptional examples of the opposite sex to one another without jealousy. We're human. We like to look and then tease each other for being old and lecherous. I keep a drool towel in my grandma purse.
Take last weekend for example. It was time for our bimonthly trip to Sam's Club to stock up on carbs in bulk and afterwards, dinner at any one of the fine chain restaurants nearby instead of filling up on samples like the rest of the sheep. Did you hear about that sample hawker who mixed in his semen with the tiny cups of yogurt he was offering to people? This is not the ingredient that makes Jamie Lee Curtis regular though it might be how Christopher Guest avoids prostate trouble. I'd rather my appetizer be a blooming onion, thanks.
Anyhow, we were told by our hostess that our waiter had a good shot at the winter Olympics. We chatted with him a bit and left him a good tip. I won't out him by his sport, but this type of athlete wears tight catsuits and has to have an ass of steel to compete.
...and yes...it was steel.
I enjoyed my meal very very much.
What's more, Justin had a good laugh at my expense for checking out what was on the dessert menu. When you bake good pies at home you can look at the pies elsewhere but you don't feel compelled to actually eat them. Everyone likes pie, ya know? So look good and hard at a well baked pie. Appreciate the fruit fillings.
This weekend I'm going to look at more pie.
My husband's female coworkers asked him if I'd like to go see a male dance revue for Deer Widow's Weekend. Nothing to hide. Nothing to get upset over. No reason to ask me in person. Justin's right there at work and he knows me better than anyone, so just ask him. "Justin, would your wife like to go with us to watch undulating oily beefy men wearing eye patches over their ticklish bits?"
He replied that I would indeed like such a thing and though I haven't been to anything like this since attending a coworker's 40th birthday party when I was all of 17, I think I would too. Why not? It's my birthday early next month.
There is the worry of what to wear and what to bring with you. Skirt? Push up bra? My knee length high heeled black boots? Do I shave my goatee off? Do male lap dancers care if you have a goatee if you have enough dollar bills? How many dollar bills does one keep accessible? Will I need hand sanitizer? If I have a hot flash do they mind if I bring a cold pack?
What if they sweat on me? Either the dancers or the other women? What if I have to kick someone's ass for getting to pushy and shove-y? Again, either the dancers or the other women? Where do I buy pepper spray?
Maybe I'll need to take Justin with me considering my concerns. It'll be a bonding experience.
He's declined though. I can't imagine why he'd want to miss this.
To return the favor maybe I'll find a joint who has hired a Girls Gone Wild participant. It's not the Olympics but it's the best I can do.
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