‘It’s only love when you’re loved in return
Some fools never learn’
sung by Steve Wariner~Some Fools Never Learn
Everyone needs to be humbled occasionally. Unfortunately, it happens quite often to me. Call me an expert at it. My latest humbling experience involved 3 guys and a Starbucks.
Last Thursday night, my dh had some friends visit, so I decided I would give them some space. Guy talk. Macho men grunting.
No, thanks, I’m outta there.
So I decided it was a good evening to have some space of my own. And what better place then Starbucks. Not far from home, the atmosphere rocks, and I can always use a non-fat, sugar-free grande vanilla latte. It’s still light out and can be home before dark.
Walking in, I immediately noticed three men sitting around a small round table in the corner. Nice looking, clean cut, and one with long legs encased in tight jeans. I ‘heart’ long legs in tight jeans. But being the happily married woman I am, I only stole a quick look, placed my order at the counter, then found a comfy chair in the opposite corner. For the next half hour I sipped my latte, snacked on a fruit salad, and pretended to read a book when in truth I was fascinated with the happenings on the opposite side of the room. Not wanting them to see me watching the male ritual, I took my sunglasses out of my purse and put them on.
Here’s what I observed:
Animated guy-talk until a female walked in the door. Conversation ceases. Coffee cups lifted to mouths. Eyes over coffee lids check out babe. Ocassionally one would punch another and nod in direction of said babe. It didn’t take long to figure out that the ‘not-so-babes’ didn’t warrant the punch and the nod. Babe leaves. Conversation resumes.
I get a big kick out it, make mental notes to be used in future novel, and soon it is time for me to leave. I stand up, gather my empty containers and eyeball the room to find the garbage. As luck would have it, the path to the only trash can in the room led right by the table of testosterone.
No problem.
Doesn’t bother me.
Happily married.
Totally secure in my role as woman.
Probably too old for them anyway.
Through the safety of my sunglasses, I can see they notice me coming.
Conversation ceases. ‘Hmmm, that’s cool.’ I think to myself.
Three cups lift to three mouths. ‘What? Never expected that.’
Three sets of eyes watch my approach. ‘O.M.G, could it mean…?’
One guy punches the other. ‘Yes! I still have it! WooHoo!’ I happy dance in my mind.
I reach the trash can and dispose of my empties. As I turn, I see Long Legs in Tight Jeans rise from his chair and walk the short distance to where I was in front of the receptacle. He reaches around me, throws his cup away and looks at me for a moment.
I bask in his attention. ‘I am married. I am married. I am…’
“Ma’am,” Mr. Long Legs says quietly, ‘Ma’am?? What’s with that?’ “You are a real doll, babe, but do you realize you have two pairs of glasses on? Just thought you would want to know.” A nice smile and then he and the others walk out the door.
I evidently had put my sunglasses on over my reading glasses.
Yes, sigh, I do still have it. A big piece of humble pie.
