Saturday, January 9, 2010

Damsels In Distress

When running from a bad relationship, I have learned one important thing. When you run, you will never run with money in your bag, and if you have a credit card when you run, it will be maxed out and unusable. When you run, it will never be the day before payday when you do it.

Further, you will never run with the right shoes on. You will be wearing killer shoes from hell when you make your grand departure. If it’s cold, you will be wearing a sleeveless tank top and Bermuda shorts. If it’s warm, you will run in your fleece lined jogging suit. I guarantee it.

For whatever reason, I have found myself wandering, no place to go that was safe, and no money on hand. Seems like a bad situation to be in, doesn’t it? I can assure you, it is. But, believe it or not, I have always had men come to my rescue. One man paid for a motel room for me (and did not request that he share it with me). One man drove me to San Jose from San Francisco, because I could stay with my friend there. One man invited me to stay at his apartment with no strings attached. I did so, and I was quite safe and unmolested in the experience. These were not men I knew. They were just random guys who wanted to help me.

There must be something about a woman who is clearly distressed that brings out the best in some people. I’m sure I have been lucky not to have encountered a rapist, a serial killer or worse. Still, I can’t help but wonder what it is about seeing a crying woman, hair askew, eye make up smeared, inappropriately dressed, (and wearing the wrong shoes), that makes a man pull over a car, a bus, or a motorcycle and walk over to you to find out what is wrong.

When I am not running for my life, I’m something of a fashion plate. I have good clothes and wear them well. I’m fastidious about my appearance and I dress tastefully. A lot of men tend to look at me, but not approach me. What is it that makes a devastated looking woman seem so much more approachable?

Frankly, when I see people crying and unkempt, I tend to avoid them because I don’t like messy situations. Whatever it is, I probably can’t be of much help. Also, I might fear that the person was mentally ill and then perhaps even a danger to me.

So when I’ve been “on the lam” if you will, I know I look like I very well could be goofy. I can only come to the conclusion that goofy, messy women do not turn men off. In fact, it makes me wonder why I didn’t spend more of my youth being goofy and messy. (Of course, one might say that anyone who had to run from relationships as often as I did might be a tad goofy after all.)

Granny Panties

I’m somewhat sorry to say that I gave up thong panties a very long time ago. The truth is I only wore them once and that was enough for a lifetime as far as I am concerned. There is nothing sexy to me about having a ribbon of material stuck up my butt. It may sound cute or sexy, but it doesn’t feel cute or sexy. Know what I mean?

I did get a thong because I had heard it would make me feel sexy, and it would get rid of the dreaded “panty line.” Uh huh. What is so wrong with a panty line? Or for that matter, if your panty line shows, the clothes are too damned tight for you!

Bikini panties are fine, if you don’t mind the muffin top that comes out above them. I have several pairs, and if I’m not planning to show them to anyone, they are okay under something loose. My favorite type of panties actually come up to my waist. And cover my more than adequate butt. Go figure! My panties are purchased for comfort over style. Love cotton. Love not getting a wedgie!

I know someone who is a real panty princess. She cleans her perfect little silk panties with an old toothbrush to keep them pristine. I’m sure the people who see them are impressed. I would be.

If I want to impress somebody with my panty choices, I have devised an interesting way to do so. I buy two or three pairs of just amazingly sexy panties, the kind with the string up the butt, or bikini. I cut the tags off of them. (Also, I should mention that you might consider purchasing no bigger than a size 4 when you get them. The reason will come clear in a moment.)

Get a little lingerie rack for your bathroom. Wash the panties once, and artfully arrange them on the rack. Leave them there. You can also spray them with a little musk perfume, (or rub essence of fried chicken into them if that works for you).  Invite all your friends to use your bathroom whether they need to or not. (You can always say, “George, would you go get me a Kleenex from my bathroom!” Or “Suzie, please get me a couple of aspirin from the medicine chest in my bathroom.”) You get the idea.

Your male friends will have lustful thoughts when they see the red lacy thong, and the pink see- through bikini panties. Your girlfriends will be jealous that you wear such tiny panties. And the best part of all is that you simply need to shake the dust off of them every month of so. Voila! Your image has been vastly enhanced, and you never ever have to put those suckers on your size 8 butt.