Glen has been calling me since Saturday. As the condescending blonde I can often times be, I ignored his begging. All women know that there are times when even the best of dates can be boring, and God knows I get bored easily. Also,
sometimes begging is a big ego boost for me. After a horrific Saturday late night, a “God why did I do that” Sunday and a typical “I hate Mondays” I gladly and oh so willingly answered his call. Why I resisted I don’t know. I mean he is “THE”. Right?
So after a few getting to know each other again hours, and a few trivial discussions about baseball, The Texas Rangers of course, egos and sincerity, he held me close in his barley arms and we got, as we always do deep. At this point, I must confess: I really like the smell of GlenLivet. Usually, it’s Armani Code Black that does it, but Glen’s natural essence is oh so sexy!
I began to feel relaxed and less tense than I had in days. Glen isn’t intimidated by me. He loves all the things that every other masculine name except my son has disliked about me. And then it happened. Like a verbal orgasm, my worries, fears, concerns and tears spilled out convulsively. I’m not one of those obnoxious people who date aged single malts and get all blubbery. I NEVER do that. But I did on this date. And you know what Glen did? He listened. And listened. And then listened some more. I suppose its his many years of being casked up that has made him so sultry and elegant. I mean, if you spend that much time alone with your thoughts and pure Scottish mountain air, how could you not distill into something so wonderful as Glen?
Glen doesn’t talk, but when I looked into his amber eyes, he told me how beautiful I am. He did! Okay, so I was seeing my reflection in the tumbler, my boobs aren’t perky, I have a few more wrinkles and pounds, and can’t get out of tickets like I used to when I drive too fast, but by GOD I’m still damned hot! He pleaded with me to release all my pent up stress. He lauded me for being strong over the weekend for my kids. He admired me for having conviction and for keeping my promises. He even reminded me I am behind on my writing. He made me not worry about my finances.
Glen understands me. He doesn’t judge. He knows I don’t have a dirty mind, just a sexy imagination. He places my level of happiness directly proportionate to his availability. He wants nothing more to please me. He agrees with me that most people don’t really care about you, just themselves. And when our fluids mingle and we become one, its warm, then hot, then free. And its that good kind of freedom, you know the one I mean? The total freedom to say, do, feel the way you want without worry that you’re hurting someone’s feelings, sensibilities or security. The freedom to uncover that smallest Russian doll that lives within us. I don’t let many people see mine. In fact, the last one I did ended badly and now I don’t know that I have it in me to do it again. I need a strong person in my life. I also need and miss my Aristotle.
Glen knows these things about me. I love him for that. Unfortunately, his strength is a bit much for some and they become addicted to him. Or maybe its just they become addicted to the fact he unlocks their inner doors and forces them to look at their earlier selves. I don’t share him with people I know can’t handle his allure. I don’t share him with people who aren’t ready to unlock when they’re not under his or any of his lesser cousins’ influence. I told you I could be a condescending blonde at times. I can be pushy and sneaky too. Glen didn’t tell anyone when my batteries ran out and I stole one from the television remote and forgot to replace it.
Glenlivet keeps really good secrets. It’s me that shares them.