Sexless in the City

Sometimes reading romance novels doesn’t quite prepare you for a love life...

For this 30-year-old urbanite, love is always a misadventure: The Harvard Lickwit, Hippie the Groper, the 5% Man, and the Ad Weasel. These and many other men wander in and out of her life — but never her bed.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Next post later than expected ...

But hopefully coming later tonight or tomorrow morning.

Meanwhile, here’s hoping a Big Six song recently blasting from my stereo doesn’t become tonight’s theme song: “Groovey Geezer.”*

Appropriately, the British band’s lead singer was, at 37, some 16 years older than me the night I was his groupie (note: I didn’t say grope-ee). Tonight’s Brit age gap ... well that kinda math’s too much on only a half-caf latte. ;) Geriatric Gent’s long-term friend claims I have nothing at all to worry about; Best Friend advises I should look like a nun — as in, “You’ll be getting none.”

While I am wearing a mid-calf black skirt and sober black Mary Janes, something tells me this ensemble is more akin to my infamous string of Halloween costumes. Guess I’m just not in the habit of dressing with propriety yet. That, or my (Protestant) education re: Catholicism is far too reliant on Sister Act. Which would be an apt title for Sunday’s breakfast with Wedding Date — but that story too will have to wait till later.

Ta, dahlings! Don’t forget there’s yet another contest to be won ...

*From the same album that yielded their contribution to the Truman Show soundtrack.