wild thing

steak girl told me yesterday that, in spite of her undying love for steak, she would henceforth be unable to partake of any more in my company.

while my wallet rejoiced at this news, i ventured to ask why she had a sudden change of heart regarding the source of financing of her culinary addiction. to which she told me that i wasn’t as wild as she had thought i was at first.

well, duh.

i could have told her that, had she inquired as to my wildness, prior to spending my hard-earned money on a steak that she only ate about one fifth of.

but this led to some intense soul-searching, although it didn’t last long, since my wallet’s celebrations were becoming more and more riotous. apparently the only aspect of my character that attracts women nowadays is the potential wildness that may exist inside me. true, i do play guitar, and true, i do have two tattoos, but those aren’t direct proof of a current wildness. rather, they are remnants from a point in life when i truly was wild.

however, as i have quickly learned, working three jobs everyday does not lend itself to wildness much. my idea of a wild night is staying up late doing something other than work. the last wild thing i did was two weeks ago when i accidentally forgot to take my keys with me to work. the last party i attended was this evening, and it was the second birthday party of a nephew of mine.

therefore, for all the millions of women who have fallen in love with me after reading my blog, please know that i am the epitome of tame.

but, on the bright side, i’m really good in bed. so at least i’m still wild in some sense of the term, even if it is only in bed.

too bad steak girl will never find out.

1 Comment

  1. Not a bad kind of wild. Sorry I haven’t commented lateley…but neither have you! I hope you’re doing well. And that song is really sad. I guess that’s why it’s called Angels Cry…

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