Daylight Frittering Time, The Chauffeur, and An Unexpected Gift

Since we're not saving daylight, does that mean we are frittering?

Yesterday I chauffeured my breasts to the Upper West Side for a playdate with Baby Boy. Not that it was planned -- I was kind of at a loose end because I couldn't track down Hawkins for our planned brunch, couldn't scare up EmKay for a plan B, so on a whim I rang the little Italian to see if he wanted to get brunch and catch a flick. Lots of good films out there these days that we both want to see, you know.

Turns out he was having a Lazy Sunday Afternoon -- one of those lie around in your pj's and watch videos kind of days (okay, so he got more done between 7 am and 2 o'clock than most people get accomplished in a 12-hour day, he earned the lazy time).

As soon as I took off my coat, he announced he had a present for me. Ummmm. Can someone explain to this guy that we aren't dating anymore -- I broke up with you! You're not supposed to buy me presents! Turns out, he found an amazing necklace with a hand of Fatima charm that is perfect-perfect-perfect for me. I'm touched and charmed. Actually, what I am is tickled to death. I haven't had a man buy me a present for no reason in god-knows-how-long. I mean, it's just not the kind of girl I am. For some reason, men don't seem inspired to give me shit. I think I've mentioned it before. How does one become a woman that guys want to buy shit for?

No sooner do I flop down to watch the movie with him than he's on the Girls. Horny little tit-monkey that he is.

We did a little wrestlemania, then I walked him down to his meeting and got on a train to the Lower East Side to grab a Cuban sandwich and a beer at EmKay's bar. By this time, it was 7 o'clock and I *still* hadn't eaten anything, so I was stahaharving.

EmKay asked what I had been up to during the afternoon -- I mentioned that I had been hanging out with the Italian.

"Ohhhh," he said with a knowing leer, "so that explains the glow."

I can't help it, I've always given off a post-coital glow that is as obvious as a 5-year-old's drawing of the sun. It's probably more like the stink lines on a cartoon character, but there you have it. You can always tell when I've been up to somthing no good -- or rather, up to something really, really good because I get this happy buddha quality about me. When I used to leave the married guy's office after a particularly good romp, I used to get smiles and leers and second looks all the way home.

I'm just a horny bastard.

PS - I'm back into my skinny jeans after 3 years.