For this post, I’d like to take a few brief minutes to discuss a subject that is perhaps taboo in some circles but nonetheless relevant to all. I’m talking about the booty call.
I started thinking about this a few weeks ago when my wife was out of town for an extended amount of time. But wait before you begin to accuse me of anything untoward; I did not break out the rolodex and try my luck. Read on before you judge.
After my wife departed, it didn’t take long for me to begin to miss her. Then as time wore on, I began to really miss her. And as the day of her return approached, the anticipation and the longing began to build. She arrived home late, and when she came through the door, it was on! It’s said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But that’s not the only thing absence achieves.
But what does all that have to do with booty calls? I’m getting there.
You see, I’ve been married now going on seventeen years. And, I might add, happily married. I don’t miss much about the bachelor life, but every now and then I do find myself missing those old booty call days.
Now before you start tsk-tsk-tsking and shaking your head, allow me to finish. I’m not talking about the vulgar, opportunistic dialing-for-dollars booty call. You know the one. You strike out at the club. Or at a party. Or wherever your most fertile hunting ground might have been, so you just spin through your rolodex, hoping against hope that you get lucky.
No, no, no! I’m talking about the more refined and socially acceptable classic booty call. Let me set up this scenario for you. You go out with the guys (or vice-versa), and the whole time you find yourself not really enjoying yourself. You just can’t get into it. You just go through the motions. Usually by this time your boys (or girls) have picked up on it. They notice your morosity and begin to tease you unmercifully about it.
Finally and mercifully, it’s time to end the charade and go home. On the drive home you give her (or him) a call just to let her know you’re thinking about her (or him) and missing her (or him). But wait! She (or he) confesses that they were thinking about you and miss you too as much as you miss them, if not moreso. They state that they have been tossing and turning for hours attempting to will themselves to sleep but to no avail. Furthermore, she (or he) suggests that you come right on over right now.
Of course, you demur, but she (or he) insists. “It’s three o’clock in the morning,” you protest, but still she (or he) insists. What the hell? You change your course and head straight for your baby’s house, all the while desperately attempting to not break any traffic laws in the process.
Now, that’s what I miss. I miss missing the one I love. We really don’t get a let of time apart except those times we are at work, or in a late meeting, or unless one of us has to go out of town. We’re always in each other’s hair. But I’ve got some ideas how to work this thing out. It’s time that I get creative and create my own opportunities for booty calling.
I started thinking about this a few weeks ago when my wife was out of town for an extended amount of time. But wait before you begin to accuse me of anything untoward; I did not break out the rolodex and try my luck. Read on before you judge.
After my wife departed, it didn’t take long for me to begin to miss her. Then as time wore on, I began to really miss her. And as the day of her return approached, the anticipation and the longing began to build. She arrived home late, and when she came through the door, it was on! It’s said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But that’s not the only thing absence achieves.
But what does all that have to do with booty calls? I’m getting there.
You see, I’ve been married now going on seventeen years. And, I might add, happily married. I don’t miss much about the bachelor life, but every now and then I do find myself missing those old booty call days.
Now before you start tsk-tsk-tsking and shaking your head, allow me to finish. I’m not talking about the vulgar, opportunistic dialing-for-dollars booty call. You know the one. You strike out at the club. Or at a party. Or wherever your most fertile hunting ground might have been, so you just spin through your rolodex, hoping against hope that you get lucky.
No, no, no! I’m talking about the more refined and socially acceptable classic booty call. Let me set up this scenario for you. You go out with the guys (or vice-versa), and the whole time you find yourself not really enjoying yourself. You just can’t get into it. You just go through the motions. Usually by this time your boys (or girls) have picked up on it. They notice your morosity and begin to tease you unmercifully about it.
Finally and mercifully, it’s time to end the charade and go home. On the drive home you give her (or him) a call just to let her know you’re thinking about her (or him) and missing her (or him). But wait! She (or he) confesses that they were thinking about you and miss you too as much as you miss them, if not moreso. They state that they have been tossing and turning for hours attempting to will themselves to sleep but to no avail. Furthermore, she (or he) suggests that you come right on over right now.
Of course, you demur, but she (or he) insists. “It’s three o’clock in the morning,” you protest, but still she (or he) insists. What the hell? You change your course and head straight for your baby’s house, all the while desperately attempting to not break any traffic laws in the process.
Now, that’s what I miss. I miss missing the one I love. We really don’t get a let of time apart except those times we are at work, or in a late meeting, or unless one of us has to go out of town. We’re always in each other’s hair. But I’ve got some ideas how to work this thing out. It’s time that I get creative and create my own opportunities for booty calling.
2 comments:
This is awesome. Now if only I can find "the one" and get married so I can schedule booty calls with MY wife. Again, you inspire me.
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
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