Beautiful women have the power. Always have. Always will. No news there.
My wife has that effect on men; stops them in their tracks. They fumble about like lost children, seeking approval, as if she says to the lost men: “yes, you’re OK. Really.”
I’m just joking my wife is far too nice for any of that nonsense. But just ask any man when a stunning woman walks by, almost like not of this Earth, feet not touching the ground. We stop, stutter and find shelter. It is too much to ask. Really. We are not ourselves. We act like gibbering idiots. Well, actually we are gibbering idiots, but we hide it well until that moment comes when a female wonders by. Stop the presses! I say. Nobody is listening.
None of this is new. It just never seems to stop. As I got older, I thought, well, maybe now I will not be so affected by the opposite sex. I will just remember and smile; look to my wife and be grateful. It’s nice having the best looking, the smartest women on the planet next to you. It is nice.
But it doesn’t change as you get older. In fact, it gets worse. What the hell! I don’t get it. Well, I never really got anything. Just keep stumbling forward, eyes straight ahead, feet shuffling, hands tight to my side. One-two, one-two, one-two. Such a deal. Such a life.
Waitaminute…did you see what I just saw. Stop it! Just keep stumbling forward, eyes straight ahead, feet shuffling, hands tight to my side. One-two, one-two, one-two. Life is truly grand, don’t ya think?