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Posts Tagged ‘Courtship’

Dear Cupid,

Your big day is over. Thank you for your service.

I know you worked overtime with my sons. Each has a girlfriend.

Dominic has been with Anica a little while — long enough to get into trouble for skipping class to kiss her in the multipurpose room at school.

(The phone call with the assistant principal was mortifying for both of us.)

Now he wants to take it to the next level.

Um.

Not just no. HELL no.

I have to hand it to him: He was brave to ask.

But not THAT brave as he asked his father, not me.

Thankfully, Gideon is still in the kiddie pool. But he’s practicing his strokes.

Oh.

My.

God.

🙄

Right?!

This is new — very new — for him. In fact, it almost didn’t happen.

Him: There’s a girl at school who likes me.
Me: Yeah? Do you like her?
Him: Yeah.
Me (Spidey senses tingling): So what’s the problem?
Him: I don’t know if I have time for a girlfriend with jujitsu and baseball and homework.
Me: Well, just talk to her about it. Let her know.
Him: Okay.
(Waits a beat.)
Him: I’m glad I can talk to you about relationship stuff.

Anyway, you did your thing. And now I have to do my mom thing — the thing where I notice everything but pretend not to, let alone say anything.

They’re feral cats: I have to let them come to me.

Thanks again. I think.

Love,
Beth

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Dear Elek,

I didn’t know I needed you in my life until you showed up.

I have a predilection for hairy males, but you are a little furrier than most.

And even though your breath smells like fish and ass, I let you into my bed.

I woke up spooning you.

I’m sorry if I moved too fast.

But it’s been a long time since I’ve had a new fella in my bed.

My hairy bedmate, post-spoon

You are so handsome when you sun yourself.

Yes, I know you have a lady already. And yes, I know you and Gideon are supposed to be bro-ing it up this week. But it’s clear whom you love best.

So if you want to leave Sherry for me, you beautiful creature, I would be more than fine with that.

Love and wet kisses,
Beth

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Dear Men of a Certain Age at a Bar:

Look. Listen.

I know you want love — or at least a little action. You can have it, but you have to follow some rules.

Auntie Beth is here to help.

DO: Try to catch the eye of someone you find interesting.
DON’T: Stare at her like a complete creep.

DO: Check to see if she is wearing a wedding ring.
DON’T: Make any kind of move if she is. It’s true that some ladies might still be interested, but let those ladies be the instigators.

DO: Leave her alone if she is clearly in a group, and having a full conversation with someone.
DON’T: Rub all up on her like a cat on an allergic guest’s leg.

DO: Continue your hunt for eligible ladies by scoping out the rest of the bar.
DON’T: Put your hand on the aforementioned woman’s thigh. And if you do it anyway, and if she firmly brushes you away, don’t put your other hand on her waist. This isn’t Jersey Shore, and this chick ain’t no Angelina.

DO: Leave her the F alone if she turns to you, looks you square in the face, and clearly and calmly says, “Stop touching me. I’m married, and not interested.”
DON’T: Keep on trying to touch her, forcing her to inform one of her male friends who then has to stand between you and her.

DO: Move on! There are plenty of seemingly eligible and attractive ladies in this bar. (Really? We needed to get all the way to this step?)
DON’T: Ask her if she wants to come outside for a smoke.

Women are not that mysterious. We will let you know if we are interested. And we are more empowered than ever before to tell you when we are not.

Don’t be THAT GUY at The Lizardmen 25th Anniversary show, which was amazing despite the bar shenanigans.

Sincerely,
Auntie Beth, who did not fully F politeness last night, but also did not suffer fools.

Here’s Auntie Beth with her friend Jeff, whom she likes and willingly got near.

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Dear Aggressive Fellow in Office Depot:

I’m not sure I adequately displayed my shock at your approach in the printer ink aisle.

I thought maybe you thought I worked there.

But then when you got very close and asked me if I had a husband or boyfriend, I knew I was wrong.

It was flattering, for sure. Especially as I had my hair piled on top of my head, didn’t have makeup on, and was wearing a Fishbone shirt and raggedy shorts.

But when I said, “Yes,” you were skeptical.

“Are you sure?”

I held up my left hand.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“But I like you. Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me?”

“I’m sure. Thanks anyway.”

Then you dropped this line:

“I’m Guatemalan.”

OH! Well in THAT case!

But seriously, “a new man” was not on my shopping list.

And I don’t think the lady you were with would have appreciated your activity 10 feet away.

But you did give me a great story to tell, so thanks.

And you do have moxie.

Impressed,
Beth

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Dear Music Lovers,

I last wrote to you more than a year ago to share my favorite playlists.

I was reminded of that post today because I had lunch with an old friend who was influential in developing my musical tastes.

He created a fantastic mix tape for me back in the day.

I don’t save a ton of things — I’m not a hoarder! — but I saved all the mix tapes I received. As I knew Mike and I were meeting, I dug his out this morning to bring to lunch to show him. (I did this in the living room in my underwear, scarring Gideon for life. But that’s another story.)

I miss the days of mix tapes. They were an essential part of the courting ritual. You liked someone, then carefully crafted a tape that would do three things:

1. Indicate your feelings. You could be obscure or obvious.

2. Introduce the recipient to new music. And show off your own coolness. Or not.

3. Tell a complete story. Flow was key. It was a narrative.

I always went one step further (of course) and decorated the paper sleeve. I would find a great image from a magazine or newspaper (I’m old, y’all), cut it precisely, and glue it to the cardboard. I’d list all the songs on the other side.

It was a task to create these because you had to time everything out perfectly to fit the tape plus switch out albums.

Playlists are easier to create and share today, but I don’t get the impression they are as much a part of the getting-to-know-you phase. They certainly don’t provoke the same feeling as when someone you liked would hand you a tape. You couldn’t wait to get in your car (!) or get home to listen to it to see if they felt the same way you did.

For the record, Mike and I were and are great friends. No big romance. The purpose of this tape was to introduce me to new music. (But it’s true we were very flirty.)

I recreated it in iTunes:

Mike was tickled that I still had it.

“These songs definitely represent an era,” he said.

True that.

Here’s a picture of Mike taking a picture of the playlist. He was as amused as I was.

If you’re feeling industrious, send me a playlist. It can have a message. Or not. I’m always open to new music, as I think I’ve demonstrated.

Vinyly yours,
Beth

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Dear Parents of Older, Non-teenage Boys (i.e., Survivors):

I need your advice. As you may know, I have a 14 year old who tests my patience.

But I just spent a week on a cruise with him. It was … interesting.

It started out in typical fashion. He was cranky:Once on the boat, it seemed like he would fall into last year’s freak-flag-flying habit of making a face in every photo:

But then he got sick:

And kept everyone up three nights in a row by coughing. So I got back at him in my own special way: by harassing him mercilessly:

You can tell he isn’t feeling well:

And here he is being nice to his “cousin” Mia:

But we Lysoled the place every day to reduce germs:

And soon he was back to normal, making sure the stingray was a girl before he would kiss it:

And harassing his father:

And Ryder:

And telling me he planned to troll the hot tubs to score numbers (in this getup and baby glasses he found, no less):

So my question for you is this:

How do I keep the funny, silly Dominic and get rid of the one who is such a pain on the reg?

Not fix his phone so he’s forced to communicate with us? (He’s shattered two.)

Or just accept that he is 14, hormonal, and PERHAPS too much like me?

Thanks in advance for words of wisdom.

Gratefully,
Beth, Mother of a Dragon

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Dear Hinge, Tinder, Grindr, Bumble, etc.

I know you have substantial market share in the dating app world. But y’all don’t have anything on Words With Friends. Apparently.

There’s plenty of middle-aged white dudes trolling WWF for ladies.

It’s a new frontier.

What is up with that?

It’s only been in the past few months that I have noticed this situation. (See here and here for recaps.)

But in the past week or so, it has gotten out of control. Here’s slideshow of my personal rogues gallery. (Names/faces hidden JUST IN CASE they are real people, which I doubt.)

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

WHAT THE HECK?!

In my last post on the topic, I mentioned my plan to mess with these fellas. Like this:

But to be honest, there are so many of them, and it takes too much time/energy.

It would make sense to decline games from people I don’t know.

But then I wouldn’t have material for my blog, right?

Harris gets it.

I also wouldn’t be able to suggest to you that you get into the gaming scene to build market share.

Clearly there is interest from at least one subset of the population.

Just here for the points,
Beth

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