“I’m Too Sexy” #27

Posted on March 1, 2011


You wouldn’t think that being 40, unemployed, and forced to live with your nut-job parents would provide any opportunity to feel your innate sexiness… But let me tell you, I am learning a thing or two about how life works and the miraculous surprises around every corner if you are just willing to put down your negativity and doubt for one second.

Maybe you already know that your experience of life is almost wholly determined by your attitude and the filter through which you see things.  I can say that life is just plain shitty sometimes.  But, when you open a smidgeon to the possibility of life and its adventures – IF you are willing to get out of bed and say Bring it on, then my friends, good times will roll.

The weather was gray and damp yesterday.  I was almost paralyzed by my thoughts of being condemned to a lifetime with silverware stealing, coupon scamming, incessantly arguing parents who would never get me.  I lay there, wrapped up in my brother’s old Thundercats comforter.  You could say I was curled up with my lifelong companion, the melancholy that doesn’t go away despite how nicely you ask.  I had no desire to do anything.  Life or any effort to live it seemed futile.  So, when Rob called me to see if I wanted to go to the old Printer’s Devil Bar downtown with him and his cousin, I surprised myself by saying, “What time should I be ready?”

No expectations for anything good, bad or otherwise, I took a shower (I know, can you believe it?) and got myself out there.  Two apple martinis in, and my mojo kicks in.  I’ve got so much of it, it’s coming out my ears.  I start talking to two guys much younger than me in those button-down shirts New Jersey and Long Island boys are notorious for wearing.  I treat them like I’m way too valuable for them.  So, of course they want to buy me a drink.  In one coup d’etat moment after another, I’m getting free drinks, attention, questions about myself, you name it.  I interrupt them to say, “Boys, forgive me.  There’s only one of me to go around.”  And I move on. 

As I pass the guitar-wielding singer at the mic in between songs, I lean in and say, “Sing some Jane’s Addiction, will ya?” 

At one point, I catch my reflection in the bar’s mirror and I like what I see.  When’s the last time that happened?

I’m talking to another group of single guys. One of them says to me, “Those are some great heels.”  I say, “Tell me something I don’t know.” I notice a few girls on the other side of the bar looking at me.  Don’t hate, AP-PRE-CI-ATE, ladies. 

The singer is crooning “Jane Says,” when he suddenly stops mid-verse, and the only thing you hear in the bar is me singing. Everyone cheers.  I feel like I’m in a Stella Artois commercial where a nobody character rises to stardom in a nowhere bar.  It may not be “healthy” to say drinking is a good thing, but babies, apple martinis are good to me.

On the way home, Rob and his cousin talked in the front seat.  I sat in the back, my face pressed against the drizzly window.  To think I almost didn’t go out.  Those boys would have never had the opportunity to meet me.  But seriously, I would have missed out on the fun…and learning this great lesson.  It’s not the depression you have to fight – but letting yourself be crippled by it.

Everyone has a right to feel sexy.  Single or not.  Unemployed or not.  Living with maniacs, or all by your lonesome.  Lots of money in the bank or not a penny.  It’s an inside job.  And this is the neatly wrapped gift that life placed in my lap for simply saying YES despite my depression. 

Rob finally pulled up in my driveway and asked if we’d all like to do this again on Friday night.  “What time should I be ready?” I asked.  I started to walk away – but turned back quickly.  Rob rolled his window down. 

“Next time I’m getting digits,” I said before sashaying to the house.

I got in the house and ran up the stairs the way I always ran up the stairs as a kid because I was afraid there was a monster at my heels.  In my room where I left my phone, I saw there was a text message from my ex.  The one who so easily broke my heart.  It said, “Hi.  How are you?”

I deleted it.

I picked up Vito’s paws, got down on my knees and slow danced with him while singing Frank Sinatra.

…Someday when I’m awfully low,

When the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you…

And the way you look tonight…

Would you believe me if I told you that Vito put his big head on my shoulder?  I love my dog.  He’s got mojo, too.

Posted in: Humor, Uncategorized