Please, do me a favor and hit on me

My wife has been indecently propositioned.

Not by me.
But I'm not surprised.

Imagine this: You're regularly going to the same Starbucks near your workplace in the morning (easy to imagine since you probably are, right), maybe not every morning but with some consistency. Now let's assume that you almost never end up paying for your coffee because the barista gives it to you for free. One might then assume the barista might be hitting on you, yes? Well so would a lot of people. However not Finn. She's just that oblivious. Until today when the barista asked her out she claimed she was just a lucky person who gets a lot of stuff for free by salespeople (she does). I don't have the full scoop on today's incident yet but apparently after Finn told the barista that she's married the poor girl decided to put herself out there with an "indecent offer" (quote Finn) that was declined.

Yes, of course, honey, people give you free stuff because that's just what people do uh huh. "THEY ARE HITTING ON YOU", I've wanted to scream for 5+ years now every single time she innocently tells me about getting something for free or cheaper. It didn't occur to her that her only getting those deals when I was not with her might say something. But oh well, I'm used to it, after all I can almost always find a space to park the car. That might not be a particularly sexy superpower but it's something and I cling to that.

But this was the first time someone had actually asked her out. And I found myself getting mad. Which in turn surprised me enough to get me off the madness for a second and consider. It was odd. Because I don't get jealous. I know I have her heart and that's fine so I have no reason for jealousy. So what the heck was going on with me?

Oh I figured it out alright... (and I'm not proud of it).

See, I wasn't jealous because of the barista.
I was jealous because Finn was getting hit on. And I wasn't.
Yeah... I'm really that vain. As I said, not proud of it, but let's be honest here, the last time I was actually hit on was approximately a hundred years ago - it's what it feels like. Not even a drunkenly slurred half-assed attempt by some random guy in a pub. My ego would totally take that no questions asked. But no. NOTHING.

Meanwhile everyone adores my wife. Yes, she's my wife and I'm into her, no duh, but UCH we got it she's ADORABLE. She is this petite baby butch/boi that people seem to immediately take to. How on earth can you compete with that? I know it's not a fucking competition but the hardest part about being gay for me is that you can compare your flaws to that of another woman every single day. That's not healthy, not for a fragile ego like mine. I mean, not only once have friends of mine exclaimed their adoration within seconds of meeting Finn.

"She's sooooo cute."
"Your wife is aDORable."

And really, what do you say to that? "Yes, I totally agree, now will you excuse me for a moment" (and somehow I imagine this being said with a lovely southern drawl) "while I go dig my ego out of the trash". *rummage* "Nope, can't find it. You must've gotten what was left of it."


She loses weight so much faster than me. As far as I have figured out she's "just not hungry". Oh the beauty of that! I could eat my body weight in lovely lovely food most of the time.
She's more sporty than me.
Her hair is more awesome.
She has much less pimples than me.

I have no self-control when it comes to food.
My boobs are beginning to obey the law which is gravity. I've never been particularly fond of them but I really don't like where this - they - are going recently.
I've now had three horrible hair days in a row.
And the pimples, people, the pimples!

I seriously wish I had cherished my body more when I was 20. Man, I had legs! I should've shown them off more. The really annoying thing is that if I lost the stupid weight I could probably look like that again, legs and all. Well, minus the boobs, gravity is just a bitch that way.

What is it with us women and competition with other women? I know for a fact that I'm not the only one who operates like this. You can be stunningly beautiful and intelligent and STILL feel like that.
Oh please tell me you do. And if you see me on the streets just do me the fucking favor and hit on me, okay?

4 comments:

  1. I would like to add in my defense that finding a wrongly labeled item in a store and finding the cashier stupid enough not to look has NOTHING to do with flirting and is just plain lucky.
    I do however see you point about the coffee thing...

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  2. the sexy gril on the top of the page: is this a pic of your wife who always gets hitten on?

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  3. "Sexy grill"? I hear the George Foreman ones are really nice.

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  4. grills are sexy, I mean, girls, I mean... ;)

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