Tuesday, June 10, 2008

I Shall Call Him My Man Cub

Let me begin by saying that when my team morale is down, I'm not above calling a certain bullet biker even though I didn't think he was cute and his texts kind of freaked me out. Ladies, help me out here - we all like a little positive reinforcement, and Friday night, positive reinforcement was exactly what I needed. I'm sure you all have "moments" that you're not proud of...

He asked if I wanted to go for a ride so I said sure and arranged to meet him at Starbucks nearby. As I pulled up, I saw that not only was my biker boy there, but there were four other biker boys all with girls on the backs of their bikes. Ick. Those kind of girls. I know you know what kind of girls I'm talking about. I was on the phone with Yanaj at the time and she said, "Just keep going, man, don't even stop. Just keep going." But they'd already spotted me, so I climbed aboard and became one of them. That's right - I totally blended in with their tight skinny jeans and butt cracks hanging out as they crouched over their boyfriends. Not really.

Not the point. The point is that I wasn't even bothered by those girls and they're skinny jeans and little butts - I wasn't even bothered when biker boy's spittle flew back in my face as we were riding - because on my way there, I'd met a new prospect. As I was driving on the freeway, I noticed a Mazda 3 trying to race me, so naturally I smoked him (listen to me, I'm such a snob now) and then he pulled alongside me and I thought, hey he's kind of cute, so I smiled at him and let him pass. Then he started waving for me to follow him off the exit, and I thought, hey he's kind of cute so what the hell, and I did. And guess what - he was really cute and he asked for my number. Even better is the fact that he's got a bullet bike too...so maybe I'm becoming one of those girls, minus the skinny jeans and little butt, of course.

He texted me five minutes after I met him and then I found out...that he's only twenty two. Which kind of made me shudder and at the same time made me feel awesome. I know that four years isn't that big of a deal, but there is a big difference between a twenty two year old guy and a twenty six year old guy.

I call him my Man Cub, and I kind of want him to be my boyfriend so that I can be his puppet master and mold him and make him into exactly what I want. I have visions of us out at dinner and me teaching him which fork to use and then when he drips food on his chin, I tilt my head to the side and give him a knowing smile and say, "Oh, Man Cub. You are just adorable!" as I use his squared hankerchief to dab his chin.

Then I'll take him to a fancy wedding reception and teach him how to tie his tuxedo bow tie and he'll step on my toes when we're dancing but I won't mind because I am his older woman and he idolizes me.

Then we'll be sitting on his bike parked at the pier and between kisses I'll say, "Maverick...you big stud...take me to bed or lose me forever." And he'll say, "Um, my name isn't Maverick..." and I'll say, "Shhhhh shhhhhh shhhhh....." and I'll die a little inside because I'll realize that he's too young to have seen Top Gun and he totally doesn't get my fantasy.

I think the whole thing could be really fun. After all, isn't it my duty as an older experienced woman to crack open an egg of wisdom over the head of my Man Cub? Or several eggs, since in my fantasy, he doesn't even know which fork to use?

Yes...this is gonna be good.

7 comments:

Scratch Subtle said...

I shall call him man cub. And he shall be mine. And he shall be my man cub.

Just watch out for that awkward feline-puberty phase.

HPLuvr said...

Oh, you're such a cougar :)

Jen said...

i thought you hated cats...

Erin said...

speechless. :)

hizznizzle said...

Uh, your one of those girls now. You won't be teaching anyone which fork to use.

I so hope you meet more crotch-rocket boys. Here are some words you can throw around with your biker boys to look cooler. "Carbon race pipe". "Braided cables". If you were to notice if someone had either of those you would probably be instantly inducted into their gang. Which I image is named something like the Hells Bikers, Hells Riders, Utah Hell Racers. You know anything with Hell in it is cool.

Keep this stuff coming. This is gold. I am having so much fun picturing you hanging out at the local Chevron parking lot waiting for Shane and Jen to get there before you all go ride.

Gold.

$teve said...

Best of luck to you. I hope that he turns out to be a great guy...and knows your obscure mid 80's references. :)

LecNessMonster said...

Cub Club!