A close friend, one I depend on for advise, especially for the (usually dramatic) intimate part of my life told me I should write a book. I was amused, to say the least. What on earth about my life could be interesting enough to write a book about? His answer: Tell me when the last time you dated, slept with or hell even LOOKED at a man who didn't wear a uniform.
He's right....its been almost two years.
And even before that, I only sprinkled my dating/sex life with so called "normal" men. So why not write about it? Will anyone read it? I couldn't tell you. Some people are certainly going to read it and see SLUT. To be honest, that is fine with me. I long ago decided that what makes ME happy is far more important than other people's opinions of my personal life and the point of this blog is to make people LAUGH, if I could figure out why I can't learn to avoid a man in uniform, trust me ladies and gentleman, I would be working to fix it.
I can't even pinpoint something they all have in common except that they all wear some variety of a uniform. Cop, Soldier, Marine, Sailor, Airman....And so this blog will be about just that, the confessions of a uniform addict.
If I'm going to confess, why not start at the beginning, right? My very first uniform? What was he you ask? A soldier. To be precise I was 18, fresh out of high school, was at a county fair when I stumbled across a booth run by the National Guard. His name, which for the purpose of protecting his identity and mine, will be John. John was in his late 20's, cute and had a friend for my friend. SCORE! Now, I'll be honest, this relationship wasn't going too far from the beginning, he had about as many brain cells as your average house cat, even at 18, I could barely tolerate a conversation with the man. But oh when he turned those baby blue eyes on me, and I stared deep into his....wait....were those....yes....those were STRIPES on his uniform. Jackpot. John, I will admit was short lived, turns out, he worked at home depot for a day job, lived in a CRAPPY apartment and had a disturbing obsession with Yoda (YOU try waking up to Yoda action figures on the night stand *shudder*). For about a month I over looked these things because I knew, that uniform was just waiting for him to put back on and the minute he did it made hovering everytime I had to pee at his place worth it (aren't military men supposed to be super clean?) But alas, I did finally reach a point where I thought, alright, this has been lovely John, but I am going to have to exit the ride at this time, I think I just heard the words "meet" and "mother" in the same sentence.
After changing my phone number and avoiding the town he resided in for a month or two I had some time to think....sure he was dumb....and sure he was a little weird....but Sweet Jesus was he HOT. I learned a few very important lessons from John, Star Wars IS as dorky as I always thought, theres nothing worse than puking in a dirty toilet after a night of drinking, and a man in uniform for me is like a new flavor of ice cream, I just HAVE to try him out!
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