Archive | April, 2014

Valet Confessions

10 Apr

I now find myself living in an area in which valet parking is annoyingly complimentary due to the fact that you cannot park unless you valet. Valet

Even my youngest readers can remember a time when socialites and celebutants, such as Paris Hilton and Britney Spears, couldn’t get out of a vehicle without flashing their “lady” bits to the world.

It is only after being repeatedly subjected to valet parking that I can now understand the struggles of Paris Hilton. {cough} I’m sorry; did that sentence just formulate in my brain and come tumbling out of my mouth? Yes.  Yes it did.

I say “annoyingly complementary”, because I do not drive a luxury vehicle.  I drive a Honda.  Although I adore my reliable little vehicle, I do not enjoy waiting in line behind a Maserati only to see the look of utter disappointment on the face of the valet attendant when I hand him an actual car key instead of some futuristic-looking gadget.

Then there is the matter of exiting the vehicle.  Maybe it’s because I am petite? Or maybe I am just incapable of being sophisticated? But I cannot seem to gracefully exit a vehicle.  And, unfortunately, the valet attendant is always there to witness it.

Always watching.  Always judging.

I recently went to lunch with my luxury vehicle-driving sister who chose yet another valet-friendly restaurant. {Hurray! Let the valet-induced anxiety begin!}

Me: {On the windiest day of the year I wear a dress, because I hate myself.  Pull up behind a luxury vehicle. Feel inadequate. Valet opens my door}  “Uh… sorry.  Yup.  Just, um, just give me a second here.” {Attempt to exit vehicle like a BOSS.  Fail}

Valet: {Looks away; refusing to acknowledge my existence}

Me: {Am now overcome with the need to explain myself to the attendant who could care less} “Sorry about that.  It’s kind of difficult to get out of the car sometimes.  Especially in a dress! Because… you know” {Expecting valet to understand. HE clearly does not. Attempt to recover by continuing to explain myself} “I just don’t want to flash anyone! {Even though I suspect I just did.} That’s kind of my nightmare!”

Valet: {Staring at me with disdain}

Me: “Because… you know.  Britney?  And also, NO ONE needs to see that, if you know what I’m sayin’?”

Valet: {Has no idea what I’m “sayin’”}

Me: “Because I’m not quite “groomed” these days. You know?” {Why the @#$# did I just say that OUT LOUD?}

Valet: {Look of disdain turns to look of disgust}

Me: “Sorry! I have no idea why I just told you that!” {nervous laughter} “How awkward!” {Have now made situation far more awkward by acknowledging it. Throw my car key at him and run into restaurant}

I ran into the restaurant as if the comfort of my sister’s company and a glass of wine could save me.  It’s like a child who fears monsters under the bed covering their face with the blanket and feeling completely safe.  Except that at some point I would need to exit the restaurant and face the same valet attendant who would probably never forget me, my face or my vehicle for as long as he lives.

After several glasses of wine, I exited the restaurant with a look-if-you-dare-you-awful-valet-attendant-man-person-you attitude. And by that I mean that I cowered behind my sister as I handed over my ticket.

The same attendant pulled up with my vehicle and held the door open for me.  He did not look in my direction as I got into the car, nor did I attempt to explain my ridiculously awkward behavior any further.  I just shoved money in his general direction, jumped into the car most ungracefully (probably flashing everyone in the parking lot – again?), and sped off.

In the words of Kathy Bates in Waterboy, valet parking “is da devil”.

Talk Dirty To Me

3 Apr

In my Valentine’s Day post, I discussed the implications of what a holiday focused on conveying love means for someone who, despite his or her occasional charm, is generally awkward.  But what are the consequences of everyday awkwardness in the boudoir?

Regardless of what your sexual kink(s) might be, you’ve probably encountered someone who has asked you to do something that made you uncomfortable.  I think we’re all having a collective flashback to the episode of Sex and the City when the Politician asks Carrie to pee on him. Right?

Well for me, it’s being asked to talk “dirty”.  I realize it’s not the most scandalous of things, but I just…it makes me uncomfortable. And as you all know, when I’m uncomfortable I laugh loudly and inappropriately in people’s faces.

XvtcU

To this point in my life, I’ve mostly gotten away with giving the vague response of “me too” in these situations.

“You make me so hot”

“Uh… me too”

But that doesn’t always work.

“You make me so hard”

“Me too!”

“What did you just say?”

“Me too?”

I had a boyfriend who not only enjoyed talking dirty, but insisted on a response.  I was able to carry on with my generic “me too” for a while, but one day Boyfriend laid out in explicit detail all the things about me that turned him on. I thought, “Oh, that’s nice” and continued on with my day.

Unfortunately, Boyfriend wanted me to tell him in equally explicit and uncomfortable detail all the things I liked.  Naturally, my first instinct was to bust out in my best impression of Sir Mix-A-Lot:

I like big butts and I cannot lie

You other brothers can’t deny

{mumbling through the part of the song I couldn’t remember}

…that butt you got makes me so horny!

Ooh, Rump-o’-smooth-skin…

{Boyfriend walks out of the room in a huff} Was it something I said?

Convinced that my inability to talk dirty back to him was a major defect that needed to be corrected, Boyfriend decided he would teach me. I argued that he knew I was awkward when he met me and he should really know better, but his major defect was his stubbornness.

So there I was… Boyfriend’s soulful eyes locked with my ever-widening panicky eyes and I begin to laugh uncontrollably. Boyfriend will not be deterred.

Boyfriend: {Ignoring my nervous laughter 2 inches from his face} “What do you like”

Me: “Um…{more nervous giggling}… “I like big butts and I cannot—“

Boyfriend: “NO! This is serious! Tell me. What do you want me to do to you?”

Me: “Um… I… {looking around the room for kinky ideas. Nothing.} I want you to do it.”

Boyfriend: {looks confused but hopeful} Do, what?

Me: “You know… IT.” {raise both eyebrows to emphasize my point}

Boyfriend: “I don’t know what “it” is”

Me:  “Sex, dummy.  Do the sex.”

Boyfriend: “No, you’re not getting it! Be explicit. What sexual things do you want me to do?”

Me: “All of it!”

Boyfriend: “No…”

Me: “Yes. Do all the sex to me!” {fall back into a fit of laughter}

{Boyfriend walks out of the room in a huff} Was it something I said?

I’m all for exploring and experimenting within a relationship {just typing that made me giggle nervously}, but do so in a way that doesn’t intimidate or push your partner past their boundaries.

Above all, embrace the awkward! We may not be the most seductive bunch, but we are capable of great love – and laughter.