Have you ever heard the term, “why buy the cow if you get the milk free”? Of course you have. I had the following discussion with my ex-BF. It confirmed that I have no patience for some things.

Me: What if my next love interest sucks in bed?
Him: You can teach him.

(Thinking about the lesson plan.)

Me: Or I can break up.

Disclaimer: I realize that toe curling intimacy is due to the chemistry two people share. It is not about the physical movement, although that works as an enhancement to curling toes.

This may be the one argument on why one should enjoy the milk for free before buying the cow.

Over the weekend I attended a big fancy party. It was an engagement party hosted by the rich and not famous. It was in a huge & beautiful home. It was catered. It was crowded. There was even a bartender who kept finding me and topping off my wine glass. Naturally I didn’t want to be rude and say “no thanks” so I kept allowing him to do it.

Back to the party. I do them well. I mingle. I chat. It’s where I thrive. Plus I wore a hot little dress that makes me smile. Towards the end of the evening (translates to consumption of lots of alcohol) I was pulled aside to meet another group of people. This group happened to be a small group of men. Not small in size, they were regular sized men. We were all making idle chit chat about the weather, the party, the cute engaged couple, living in other cities, traveling, whatever. Then out of the blue one man blurted out (directly to me) “I’m married.”  This comment was so out of place and odd that it felt like time stopped and the room got super quiet.  I responded with, “I’m single.” I could have added, “dumbass” but it didn’t go with my dress. 

So my question is this..

Why did he say it?

The only explanation I can come up with is this.  He heard me say, “Can you unzip my dress?” when I really said something like “Canoe near Madras?”. Although I’m certain that canoeing never came up in conversation or it would have been my cue to excuse myself to grab another glass of wine.

I went out and had a few glasses of wine with a friend Sunday night. And by few glasses I mean bottles. Next thing you know, glasses of wine are being sent over to this friend. Yes, by a man across the bar. A man with a red face. A really red face. But the wine is free. She chalks it up to writing for the paper and explains that sometimes people recognize her and do sweet things. We later learn that he’s from out of town. That excuse doesn’t work. Personally I think she made sexual gestures and he thought they were hot. But that’s not the point.

Later he sent over a glass of port for each of us at the table. Side note: I hate port since it tastes like raisins. Regardless, having a drink sent to your table makes one feel special. Prior to the port delivery I was feeling knocked off my goddess pedestal unlike my friend who was enjoying glasses of Silver Oak Cab at $184 a bottle.

I never thought I’d say this but that glass of port made me feel hot.