Get a Room

I'm having a very 'reality TV' morning -  full of minutiae; triffling matters of the human condition.   It started with the nipper singing 'Winnie the Pooh' (massive emphasis on POOH) and the 'I Love You' song from Barney the Dinosaur, 'cept she changed the lyrics to: I hate Barney -  such mordant wit and so young.  I guess I'm doing something right.

Anyway, after dropping The Lish off at daycare I went for my morning coffee.  It's instinctual - like breathing.  Before anything else gets done, this must occur otherwise almost anything at all could happen and I don't believe it would be pretty.  Standing in the queue at the usual coffee shop, looking at the familiar rows of baked goods (...baked, deep fried -  let's be honest and all the more delicious for it) observing the usual suspects behind the counter, awaiting my turn to ask for the same thing I always get - a large with milk which I'll admit given the elephantine selection of coffees in this country is the most unimaginative selection of all - aside from the fact that I don't ask for sugar.  That always elicits a double take - What? No sugar?  But this is North America!!  Please note, in this country coffee with sugar is called a 'regular'.  Enough said.

But I run the risk of sounding contemptuous which for a woman who shovelled a mint chocolate chip ice-cream down her gullet at 11pm last night is asking for the forcible seizure of credibility.

So, there I am in the queue looking at 'Coral' - smiling and serving the stimulant-deprived locals their caffeine fixes with the dedication and commitment of a 'Medecin Sans Frontiers'; the personification of 'bubbly' when all of a sudden I notice a palpable change in energy.  It's almost cloying, dripping with abashment.  What's up with Coral?  I'll tell you what's up - Libido.

I've never really noticed this in real life - but there it was - the instinctual manifestation of the sexual drive. How odd that it makes you do the opposite of what is considered personable. But then again, I guess you're not fishing for a handshake.  I look at the object of her desires -  not unhandsome -   a rugged blue collar worker about to start a shift on a building site, I think, from the looks of things.  Meanwhile she's turned into a filleted fish - it's embarrassing to watch - I can't.  I almost cover my eyes.  GET A ROOM already. 

Not one second of eye contact and yet, this approach will almost certainly lead to rumpy pumpy, eventually, hopefully before they both retire.  Oddities of the human kind.  I know I've been there...or have I?  I'm subtle but direct though I don't know, perhaps you should ask my hubby.  He didn't for a second suspect that I liked him when we met on a dusty evening in Vientiane, Laos.  I walked away mildly confused. It was an act of gallantry and UFOs that later brought us together in Koh Chang, Thailand - but that  story is for another day.

I leave the coffee shop with a coffee I now no longer want to drink - sullied as it is with sex vibes of the parent kind - EEEWW! still, I drink it just the same as I would eat chocolate cake out of the garbage if I really had to. 

Human behaviour - in the words of that paragon of mental stability: Bjork - "there's definitely, definitely, definitely no logic".  True that.