Have you ever done that thing, where you're standing somewhere (doesn't matter where- grocery store, coffee shop, methadone clinic, etc...) where you look around and wonder, "If armed bandits burst in right now, took us all hostage and said I had to have sex with one person in here, who would it be?" (I know- you read about this happening all the time- scary.)
I'll admit it, I have no shame- I do that a lot.
Sometimes there is a clear-cut favorite, the tall, dark drink of water with a nice smile and the butt you've been staring at the entire 12 minutes you've both been in line. Sometimes, due to a clear lack of viable male candidates, I look for the girl in the room that looks like she'd be fun to go shopping with- I'm fun to shop with and I'd sleep with me, so it makes sense in a blatantly narcissistic way. Sometimes I pick the 50-something guy with graying hair and blue-collar sensibilities because it's been my experience that those guys are generally fantastic in the sack- eager to please and unexpectedly dirty.
But the ones I have the most fun thinking about are the "dark horse" candidates- the ones that you'd pick just so that you could drunkenly brag to your girlfriends sometime that you did the deed with a guy with a glass eye who was wearing a cape and elf shoes. What about the seven foot-tall dude with the chihuahua and the bedazzled jeans? Well, if it comes down to him and the guy in the "Your mom is hot" t-shirt drinking a red bull and wearing a backwards baseball cap- You can bet I'm gonna push douchey aside for the sparkly giant. No contest.
So...I guess what I'm saying here is that if you see me in a public setting staring at you with a furrowed brow as if I were thinking real hard, there's a good chance I'm trying to decide between you and the one-armed guy with the tattooed face in the fur coat up at the counter paying for his frappuccino and the brunette in the corner wearing the great boots and awesome vintage dress clicking away on her laptop.
Just don't take it personally if I don't pick you.
Happy Friday, my imaginary deformed lovers. Happy Friday.