So,
“the Guys” and I are having lunch at our office Cafeteria the other day.
And, as usual, there is an ever controversial topic.
Mid spoon, one of the guys, let’s call him, S, gets this sudden, serious and pensive look on his face.
He looks up from his plate, swallows his piece of fried goat meat, lifts his fork and directs his question to the other guy (O).
“O, ever caught yourself transitioning from banging a chic to making love to her and wonder to yourself; What the hell am I doing???”
I choke, a little and there’s an immediate sharp look to my right, at S. My eyes are burning a hole into his head.
“What?”
A quick glance at O.
He’s nodding in agreement as if he just heard a choir of angels singing Hail Mary, while playing harps.
“Yeah, dude! I know!”
They’re now both nodding, reminiscing the times they both made that fatal mistake.
I’m always nearly the only female at the table when these random topics come up. The other ladies have left by this time, though we are a select few. Two (or three) at the very most (and the guys constantly remind us how special we are. How privileged we are. How lucky we are, you would think we were seated at the Oval, surrounded by Russia’s Putin & POTUS himself, anticipating the grand arrival of Trump or something sinister and world changing like that).
So, I ask what they’re on about.
O proceeds to explain, in vivid detail how the reality of Love hits them (men):
“We’re not like women. With women, you smell this thing a mile away, in fact, the minute you’re interested in a guy, you cultivate it, you play with it and invite it”.
(This a cursed “thing” = LOVE)
“For us, that sh*t sort of just come son like a bout of diarrhea. Men have this primal need to copulate with any woman they’re interested in”
S chimes in:
“Unless, it’s a woman you’re in love with – and that you don’t know until you’re thinking about completely random things like buying her flowers and even going into unnecessary details like the type she likes, that’s when it hits you – Shit!”
I’m nodding… I knew this, I must have read it in Steve Harvey’s “Think Like A Man” or was it that other one, “Why Men Love/Marry Bitches”. This shit is true? Wow. Epiphany. Maybe I should take notes next time I read those type of books.
S continues;
“Like, you’d be putting in a work – out, straining your back muscles and getting a muscle pull, trying to just quench that thirst…and then all of a sudden, you’re wondering if she’s enjoying it, if you should thrust slower… then you look into her eyes, then you kiss her… and then you’re feeling this weird shit and you want her to smile, to be happy… and then you’re fucking cuddling her afterwards, CUDDLING her!”
(Did you know cuddling invokes such deep rooted sentiments, ladies? I thought men liked it!)
O;
“Yeah, and then you let her sleep on your side of the bed.. and you wake up in the middle of the night to cover her up, check if she’s sleeping OK… and you stop your snores mid – throttle!”
S;
“….and then you spoon with her!! Aargh!” He says this with a hand on his face. Like the thought deeply, deeply and excruciatingly gashes him.
Then a unified frustrated grunt from both of them .
Me;
“That’s how you know he loves you?”
Them (in not so many words)
“We’re not saying this is gospel truth…… “
Right.
I laugh and make a mental note to blog about it.
The Art of A 