Today’s guest post is from baroquestar. Baroquestar is a 28 year old singing, studying, Australian museum geek with eclectic tastes in reading material. She is a solo mama to one beautiful daughter who likes dogs too, the bigger the better. [~lauredhel]
I’m burnt out and desperately in need of a break to rest and recuperate after a very busy and stressful festive season. So, this morning I made an appointment to have my legs waxed, popped on a nice outfit, grabbed some good reading material and morning tea, and headed to a local park to read and soak up some dappled sunlight.
Perfect. I lay on my stomach under a tree, kicking my legs and reading NW, Bitch and Rolling Stone, eating a custard tart and drinking iced mocha. I’d just noticed a few ants milling around me, so rolled over and sat up.
Just then, a nice-looking (too)young man with a gorgeous dog walked past, and the dog stopped to say hello, sniffing me and mooching, I thought, for my tart crumbs. She was just lovely, and I told her owner so. He was checking out my reading, and decided to make conversation…
“Aw, your dog is just gorgeous!”
“Yeah, she’s a moocher! So, um…this is a nice day to be out. What are you reading?”
Heh, here we go.
“I’m actually reading a magazine called Bitch.” Smile.
“Interesting title! What’s it about?”
“Well, it’s a feminist critique of pop culture, so lots of articles on current social trends, movies, music, all with a feminist perspective.”
“Wow, interesting. I bet there’s a lot to talk about. What article were you reading?”
Hmm, he’s engaged and interested, without being patronising or creepy. Points to you, young man.
“I just finished an article on the stereotype of the Jewish American Princess, and the inherent racist and sexist implications of it, and the co-opting of it into popular US humour, and products and stuff.”
“Oh cool. Was Paris Hilton mentioned?”
So it went on like this for a while whilst I was patting and smooching his dog. The conversation wound up at that point where you’ve either got to break it off or offer a phone number, and I shut it down by telling his pooch to enjoy her walk. He thanked me for the chat and said “it was nice to meet you!” I look and feel sassy and cute, he’s too young but a nice person to make conversation with. Bit of an ego boost.
Until they walk away, I look down at the grass next to me and realise that for the 15 minutes preceding this conversation, I’d been lying tummy-down in a pile of dog shit.
No, really. No wonder his dog liked me.
I just about died of laughter and then rang about three people to tell them, which probably tells you something about my psyche, but gods know what. In the subsequent conversation with my friend J., we pondered the viability of Eau de Dogs’mess as a man lure. “Put some anywhere you want to be kissed!”, as Coco Chanel or someone suggested. 😀
I also went home to change.