June 30, 2010

Walking The Dog: Story I

I walk my dog every day.  Today, on our walk, there was a pug outside this house.  Lily is half pug, so naturally she went to investigate her own breed and find out how its genitals were smelling.  Eventually, she got bored and we took off.

On the way back home, we passed this same house, except this time there were three people outside with the dog: two teenie boppers and a really good looking female.  Now I'm smart - I realize I have no game with the ladies (possibly because I call them 'ladies') and that a dog can do wonders for me in opening up a conversation.  So the really good looking female and I started talking as our dogs started playing with each other and she asked if I lived in that house down there (she pointed to the correct one, which I took as a sign she had been watching me through her blinds longingly as I walked Lily by her house every day, waiting for the perfect opportunity to meet the nice boy with the dog).  Anyways, as we were about to leave, she asked me how old I was.  So naturally, after answering, I asked her how old she was.

She was 30.  I don't think I hid my surprise very well.  I just couldn't believe it. First of all, I had her pegged anywhere from 18-23, and didn't even consider that she could be the teenie boppers' mom (as it turns out, she's their step mom, probably married to their old, greasy oil tycoon father).  It never crossed my mind that she was married (because of her youthful looks and the way she was talking to me).  Second of all, she asked me my age (and it wasn't in a "oh, how old are you little boy?" kind of way, there was something to it).  You don't just ask that without some motive, especially if you're 30 (and you know the natural follow-up question is for the other person to ask you your age).

So until my next walking the dog encounter with the female species...may I advise one and all: check the ring finger first.

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