Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Confessions of a Chauvinist

I am officially no longer sick - and it's a good thing, too. With only 8 days left until the Austin deadline, my body picked a really bad time to render itself unproductive. So, hurray - we're well again. And in celebration of my full recovery, I have a story.

An ex of mine and I used to enjoy reading together. It was something we did pretty regularly. I would be sitting up on the couch and she'd come and lay her head on my lap and we'd both sit quietly and read.

There was a problem, though.

I had this weird thing about it. Anytime she was in that position on my lap and we were reading together, in order for my right arm to be comfortable, I had to be cupping her boob. I know, I didn't get it either.

As with most quirks, they're only cute during the beginning of the relationship. Eventually it started to annoy her, and she'd try and move my arm. I'd move it back. She'd turn a little, I'd turn a little. It was physically impossible for me to sit with her like that if I wasn't cupping her boob. Next she tried sitting up next to me.

That didn't work either.

Now my hand had to be on the inside of her thigh. It wasn't only confined to when we read, either. We both realized that anytime we'd be sitting next to each other on a couch, my hand would be on her thigh. I'd never noticed these quirks of mine before.

So I thought back to every relationship I'd ever had - and sure enough, in just about every instance where the seating positions were similar - my hand would either be cupping the boob or on the thigh. It was really perplexing.

Then years later, as I'm breaking up with a completely different girl, it came to me.

I was just territorial.

The chick was insisting that we remain friends, and as usual, I wasn't having any of it. I gave her my patented "I'm a dog" speech. It goes something like this...

Chickie
We should stay friends.

Me
No. Sorry. That'll never work.

Chickie
Why the hell not?

Me
Because I'm like a dog--

Chickie
Well, I already knew that--

Me
Let me finish. I'm like a dog, see. Once I've pissed on a tree, I don't ever want to think about another dog pissing on my tree again. Even if I'm sick of that tree. Even if I never want to piss on that tree again in my life - just the thought of another dog pissing on my tree would drive me fucking crazy. I'm sorry, I just can't handle that.

Chickie
You didn't really just compare me and our relationship to a dog pissing on a tree.

Me
I'm afraid I did. Goodbye.

So as I'm walking away after giving this same speech for the who knows how-manyeth time, it all came to me. I was simply territorial. I enjoy cupping the boob and putting my hand on the thigh because, in my eyes, those are my boobs and my thighs. That's just how I'm wired.

If you don't like it, don't sit so close.

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

I fear for whoever sits next to you at the Oscars. I don't think Jack is into being pissed on.

ASA said...

Question: Are we allowed to write a caption for this photo...?

IQCrash said...

lol which photo? the girl?

ASA said...

Yup.

Emily Blake said...

Wow. That might explain why you end up with women with low self-esteem.

ASA said...

I meant to write "log line." Apologies...

IQCrash said...

"Wow. That might explain why you end up with women with low self-esteem."

Because I'm territorial?

And truth be told, I kinda like them a little damaged with low self-esteem. ;)

Scott the Reader said...

I think you're overthinking it.

Boobs just feel good.

IQCrash said...

See, this is what makes Scott such a great reader. He cuts through the bullshit and gets to the essence of what you're trying to say.

The man is a genius, I tell you.

Oh, and Matt, if you've got a great logline that can do justice to that premium rack - then it's your duty, nay, your obligation to tell it to us.

ASA said...

Horror/Thriller/Rom-Com --

Lonely Flight Attendant unwittingly checks into a hotel haunted by evil beings bent on possessing her body.

Title -- "It Hurts Here, And Here."

Anonymous said...

I think you're entitled. She wants head in lap. You want hand cupping boob. Everyone's got their desires, no one's obligated to meet the other's...did she ask permission for head on lap? No. She wanted to be comfortable. You want to be comfortable too. It's not like you're demanding sex or something.

or i'm just crazy.

Anonymous said...

taking a page out of Matt's book

Rom/Com "Is It Cold In Here Or Are You Just Glad To See Me?"

A sexy butcher forms a union after the Hooters restaurant chain takes over her floundering business and demands everyone wear new uniforms.