Saturday, November 13, 2010

That Dog Still Hunts

This last month has been an exciting one for me. First of all, I was kissed by a gay man in drag a few weeks ago, and then, just this past weekend, I was told by a non-gay man that I was “well preserved.”

I’d never been told that I was well preserved before, mainly because, when I became the age to be considered so, to put it bluntly, I wasn’t. I have that redheaded skin that was never supposed to see the light of a sunny day, but nobody told me or, more likely, I didn't listen.

I'm happy to have had some recent masculine attention, I guess, but it doesn't thrill me like it would have when I was younger. I know it’s going to come as a sad shock to my legions of male admirers, but I’ve got to confess that I’m just not all that interested in the romantic arts any more, now that my hormones have dried up like a corsage in a spinster's hope chest.

Come to think of it, most men my age, the ones I know, at least, aren’t all that interested in sex either, despite their big talk. They’re more concerned with their bowels than their genitals and the only breathing things they’re sleeping with are their CPAP machines.

It’s all a relief really. I can go to bed by myself without having to hold my stomach in while I sleep. Furthermore, I don’t have to worry about my breath or what kind of noises I may or may not be making in the middle of the night.

The only thing I sometimes miss is a big old hug, preferably from a good looking man. I like hugs from my grand kids, but as sweet as they are, they just don't pack the same kind of punch as when a burly man wraps his arms around you and squeezes. I've taken to
requesting a hug, now and then, when I find a likely victim, and, so far, it's worked out well. The police haven't been called one single time.

Okay, I know I’m going to be hearing from all the Sexy Grandmas out there and the people for whom sex just keeps getting better and better. All I’m saying is what I know about myself. Sometimes I do think I’d like to “do it” one last time before I die, but when I consider all the trouble I'd have to go to, what with driving to Target for new underwear and then pretending to be interested in that last pass thrown in the fourth quarter of the championship game in 1967, it just isn’t worth it. Plus, I’m pretty sure none of the men I know would be willing to put up with me for long enough to move the cat off the bed, much less to get my lumpy, wrinkled self out of my flannel nightgown.

I do have friends who are still sexually active, if that's what you would call it. Most of them are with the same men they married 30, 40, or 50 years ago so I guess they've got the process pretty well in place after all of that time, but I'm not sure it's all that active. I think it's more like, "turn off the TV when you're done and don't wake me up, for heaven's sake." If any friends my age are having monkey sex on the kitchen table with their husbands, they've been nice enough to keep it to themselves.

I also know a couple of older women who are still dating. One, who is a lovely 70, has dated the same man for about 10 years. She says he’s kind of cantankerous but he’s rich. Since I’ve known her, he’s taken her to his summer home in France, his summer home in Thailand, and now he has a summer home in Panama (and I don’t mean that vacation city in Florida). However, because he’s 80 and has had a stroke, the love relations are somewhat problematic. She's described the pump he purchased for big bucks at Emory Hospital, and how his nubbin looks like a rat in a bottle when he’s pumping it up, and how he has to put a rubber band around it to keep it alert afterward. With that information, I've come to the conclusion that I can live without a summer home in Panama.

I have another friend who has continued to date men who often can’t quite rise to the occasion even though they manage to look surprised each time and to make it seem like her fault. She was excited last week, however, when an old beau called. And that's because, in her words, “that dog still hunts.” It took a few minutes for those of us who were listening to her story to realize the pointer she was referring to wasn't canine. When I recovered enough to ask her the last time she'd seen that "dog" actually "hunt," she said it had been about three years. The bad news is that, as we all know, one dog year is worth seven human years, so I'm not all that optimistic as to my friend's chances for a successful kill any time during this particular hunting season.

Back to my new boyfriend, the one who had the good taste to realize just how well preserved I am. He seemed to be quite a catch, and I know this because, before he offered me his well considered compliment, he'd talked about himself non-stop for almost 45 minutes, about his many accomplishments including all the women who had wanted him. I could also tell he had a good appetite since, all the time he was pointing out his impressive history and many attributes, he was stuffing appetizers into the part of his mouth that wasn't doing all the bragging. And then there was his wife, who just so happened to be talking to someone just over his shoulder, seemingly quite happy to have the ass bend someone
else's ear for a while.

And so, instead of spending my time trying to find Mr. Wonderful as this point in my life, I think I'll continue to pursue a simple hug every once in a while, preferably from someone young and hunky. After all, I don't want to cause a heart attack.

22 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love it! Love it! So honest, straight forward and expressed with that great sense of humor you always have. Mary B

Jean said...

I was going to say "Love it! Love it!" but then I noticed the first one to comment has stolen that response. But I really do love this post. It's so funny and frank. I often wonder about the honesty of those in our age group who brag about their never-ending sexual exploits. I mean, really!

Celia said...

Ha, ha, ha! I love your honesty. My thoughts exactly if I could express them as well as you have.

Bobby Gail said...

Exactly!

Olga said...

This is SO funny! I laughed til I cried. I will share it with my dear hubby later...cause nothing like a good laugh to get the juices flowing.

sherri said...

Oh my goodness! You are a riot!

Friko said...

No chap is ever going to put up with you, you know too much about them and their little ways. As you are also not afraid to share this knowledge, your chances are nil. Just as well that doesn't worry you.

You forgot to mention their preoccupation with all things prostate.

I am fully with you on the subject, can you imagine pretending an interest in their life stories, their hobbies, their habits, once they're over, say, 65, the effort it would cost.

I had no idea that you can pump up a member to stand to attention, viagra is the extent of my knowledge. I know an old chap who has married a much younger wife; apparently his supply of pills never runs out. Poor sod, why bother.

marciamayo said...

I can't imagine why any man wouldn't find me a joy to behold. I have a friend who says the only man who would be interested in her would have to be blind. With me, he would also have to be deaf.

cile said...

You may not be a master of the languages of romance, Marcia, but you rock the roost of truth! I appreciate your willingness to share your perspective with such humor. I cracked up and you made my day!

schmidleysscribblins said...

Thank you so much. You made my day.

Wisewebwoman said...

Oh I LOLed very hard and long at this one Marcia. You said the outrageous that I have observed. I think there is a time when we should retire the naughty bits and I was with a man with a pump (once) and had to go to the bathroom and howl into a towel.
He thought my tears were gratitude.
XO
WWW

marciamayo said...

Of course he thought your tears were gratitude! How funny!

Phil said...

Truly ROFLMAO!

NellJean said...

Any number of things came to mind, but the best two were these:

My young friend's husband told her, "The old guys at work say they do it every day." "Sandra," I said, "Old Guys... lie."

My friend who worked in an ER asked a young patient if she was sexually active. "No, Ma'am, I just lies there."

Arkansas Patti said...

This was one of the best laughs I've had in a long time. Tons of truth in those words. Just priceless.

Ann Hart said...

that is hilarious!

Freda said...

Magnificent! A real cough-cure. That's from me and Him Behind the Wheel. He couldn't stop talking about you all day. Many thanks

oklhdan said...

Oh Marcia......I loved this. It is so true.....of course I still enjoy a hug but anything beyond that just feels like too much work! Thanks for making me smile today!

Anonymous said...

THIS IS A FANTASTIC STORY! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING IT!HAVE A GREAT THANKSGIVING! MICKEY ROGERS

Nigel said...

Ms. Marcia I dont know about the good looking part but I can handle the big and burly and would love to give you a hug!!! Thanks so much for the laughs along the way.

marciamayo said...

Nigel, you definitely fall into the young and hunky category. I guess I'm just going to have to drive to south Georgia to get my hugs from now on.

joared said...

Hilarious! I concur that an occasional big hug is very therapeutic. As another redhead, I especially enjoyed your "well-preserved" sense of humor.

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