Today was a big fat yawner. Woke up at 9, but took 30 minutes to actually get out of bed. Went on my stairway walk. Came home, showered and put copious amounts of aloe on my burned breasts (the peeling has begun, and it's horrifying). Got a cup of coffe and went to work. Worked (meaning: started writing a paper that's due Friday, talked with residents and watched "Office Space"). Came home. Walk dog. Hit the blog.
See what I mean? Bo-ring.
Tomorrow will be a different matter, however. I've got three appointments in the morning and early afternoon that all promise some peculiar interpersonal experience or another.
First up is my 50-something-year-old lesbian chiropractor, a little muscle-bound dynamo who still gets excited when she hears a joint crack. Sitting in her waiting room, I always wonder why I don't hear her yelling, "Oh baby, yeah! I got you that time!" at her other clients like she does when she works on me. I assume there is some kind of sound-dampening device at play in her office. Because she *totally* gets into it sometimes.
I call her "Pavlov" (to her face) because the conditioned response is so fucking predictable. Rib pops: "Oooooh! I felt THAT!" Or neck cracks: "MMMMMMmmmm, that was AWESOME!" Always something of the sort.
One time, she spit on me, she was THAT excited.
But what can I say? She's a fabulous cracker, a very kind person and not especially expensive. So that's my 11 a.m.
Up at noon is my hair appointment with my stylist of many years, a woman who has Chronic Low Self-Esteem Disorder. She's a nice woman and all, and she gives me a decent haircut without me having to explain it to her. But she's had terrible problems with the IRS and countless finacial crises over the years -- several of which I've obviously heard about while getting my hair done -- but she REFUSES to put a markup on any of the products she sells in the salon.
You know, I like getting product at wholesale prices, I've told her, But you're just giving free shelf space and distribution to all these product manufacturers, and you're not getting anything out of it. Seems like you could at least give yourself a buck or two for the space it takes in your shop.
But she doesn't. "I can't do that to my customers," she says, "especially the old ladies. Keeps them from using some crap they'd buy on discount at the drug store."
I stopped mentioning it a while ago. What costs $22 on other shelves costs $12 on hers. Who am I to complain if she wants to do that? Especially since I buy stuff from her. But still... no self-esteem. Her haircuts and colorings and everything else are way underpriced, too. A demi-color, a haircut and a brow wax run me $35 plus tip.
Of course, one aspect of this low-cost gig is that it's a very blue collar place. This ain't no fancy salon in terms of decor, and the clientele is decidedly not delux. There are only two and a half stylists there, including mine who owns the place, and they have over the years become a dysfunctional family of sorts. The other one is a first-generation Finn who has a strong Minnesotan accent and one of the hardest edges I know in people. The conversation can get pretty salty.
I have been the witness to all sorts of drama over the years. No telling what tomorrow brings. Except, of course, my hair colored and curls shaped up a little.
After I'm done at the salon, I'm heading to a meeting with a woman who holds a fair amount of intrigue for me. This is where the scalawag part comes in. You see, I'm usually a very in-the-moment person. But when it comes to this woman, I realize that I am given to premeditated flirtation. Seems I'm also checking her out for the possibility of a long-term seduction process, because this simply cannot be a flash in the pan (not at this point, anyway).
Yes, this what I like to call Living with Intent.
So I'm out walking the dog tonight, and I realize I'm thinking about what I'm going to talk about with this woman tomorrow. Of what personal matters should I inquire to show her my interest and prolong the conversation enough for me to get a better sense of what's going on with her?
For starters, I don't even know if she's queer. When I've repeated parts of our conversations to my queer friends, they all believe she's lesbian-dropping. (FYI: "Lesbian-dropping" is when you say things that give clues either to your status as a lesbian or to your liberal credentials as a "friend of lesbians.") So I'm thinking she's got something going on there, but it's part of my agenda tomorrow to get a little more information, if I'm capable of doing so indirectly.
I might find more lesbian-drops in a discussion about summer holidays, for example. Or maybe some reference to Pride events. Or another reference to "The L Word." So I'll keep an ear open to it.
In the meantime, I became aware, as I was walking, that I'm actually contemplating just *how* I want to flirt with her tomorrow. So far, this has come up rather naturally on my part, but I've been realizing lately just how powerful and seductive I can be at times -- and how fucking goofy, too -- so I'm aware of the need to be a little more conscious about my approach and my intent.
Last time I saw her, I gave her a parting wave in which I brought the back of my hand up in front of my smiling mouth and wiggled my fingers at her while ... well, I was probably batting my lashes.
When I told S2 about this, I said, Man, that must have looked flirtatious.
To which S2 replied, "You do flirt. I see you flirt all the time."
HUH?!
"Oh yeah. Oh please. You flirt with lots of people, men and women both."
Let me tell you, fair readers. Perhaps S2 was joking about this, but I get the feeling not. However you slice it, though, I have taken a little "outside" look at some of my body language and facial expressions, and I'm afraid she's right. I've probably been flirting for years and didn't know it. I do so wish I had a UCM-cam so I could see what I'm doing to some of the women in my life.
So, among other aspects of my personality that need to harnessed for the Powers of Good, we can now add "flirting." You see, I may not be a traditionally beautiful woman, I may not have a sweetly shaped body, and I may not have any more fashion sense than a turnip, but one thing I've got on my side is a gregarious, fast and witty personality that can come off as charming under the right conditions.
And around certain people, I get a twinkle in my eye that seems to make up for a lot of my other physical shortcomings. I'm quite certain I get that twinkle around this woman.
The question is: How can I put the twinkle and my more charming self to good use tomorrow?
I want to leave a lasting impression that does not include me: a) walking into any people; b) saying "fuck" more times than she does; c) exposing too much of my breasts because my shirt's not buttoned up enough; or d) talking to her while I'm essentially still asleep.
So far, I have managed to overcome most of those ... difficulties. (Personally, I think incident "C" was unconsciously purposeful; I was wearing a sexy bra.) But what I would like to do is spin a positive bit of yarn this time around and see what happens.
Mind you, the pay-off of these efforts will probably be invisible for some time to come -- if anything ever comes of them at all -- but it seems that I need plenty of practice in the fine art of sexual vibes anyway. Nothing to do but keep working on it.
If nothing else, I find I get a little juiced just sitting and talking with her. Makes me blush a little just thinking of it.
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