Today I found myself merrily bopping along to OutKast's song bow tie and decided I needed a Naked green machine juice. I hoisted my bike up onto the curb out of bustling Pacific Avenue traffic in downtown Tacoma in search of said beverage. Just then, a distinguished yet adorably scruffy gentleman rounded the corner wearing a bow tie.
Ha! I'm not sure what what level of unhip dorkinesss this reveals about my personal taste- I thought that he looked utterly sexy. Eye contact was established, but he instantly dismissed me as too young. Little did he know his assesment may have saved himself from ruin. This harmless interaction got me thinking about my recent choices. The choice I am referring to now, is my self imposed "year of intimacy abstinence". Although it is suggested for a person new in recovery like myself to not date for a year, this restriction was one I came to on my own. I am sure the refugees of Barbara Jean land would most likely agree that before I create another hostage situation, it would be best for me to hold off on the love stuff while I heal my mind, body and soul.
Ironically, this declaration is great fun for me as a conqueror of hearts. Not only does it allow me to flirt with shameless abandon, but I can do so under the banner that I am all talk. Dastardly to be sure, yet somehow safe I reason. Of course anyone that knows me knows that I am not shy, and at anytime I can be seen chopping it up with just about anyone- the guy digging in the alley for who-knows-what, the postman, or your grandmother. My friendliness knows no bounds and no one is exempt unless I am wearing my headphones.
That being said, I am also a natural flirt. Slowly I am becoming aware that this power of mine can be very destructive to all parties involved. It begins with my disarming goofy smile, followed by very honed skills of attraction, which are innate (due to years of being an exotic dancer). Pretty soon the unsuspecting fellow is under my toxic spell and is later heard muttering something about being soul mates.
And to think! He just came in for a banana! I'll take a perfectly good guy with a job, aspirations, and good health, and by the time I'm done with him, he is an unshaven corpse like lump at the food bank asking to use the phone. Codependecy to this degree is not exactly becoming. But, fear not. I am a vixen with a conscious.........
So, in conclusion, I hear by proclaim 2013 the year of no romance! I do this with the best intentions lest I create any more amorous bow tie wearing zombies humping my leg.
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