6:00 a.m. and I fumble for the alarm clock.
Jimmie is already up.
I hate him for the easy way he awakens.
I fight for every extra second of sleep.
I make a face and Jimmie responds.
Cheer up, it’s Saturday.
I close my eyes for a minute.
A minute which lasts two hours.
I dress leisurely.
Slowly pulling up black socks with small white polka dots.
I am pleased, for they match nicely with my grey Converse.
Coupled with my black polka dot blouse,
I feel like a character from Cry Baby.
My favorite Johnny Depp movie.
Being that it is Saturday, I go commando.
Fashion? Glamour? I don’t give a rip.
No longer a young woman, I am finally adequate.
I pity those certain young ladies.
Who buy the lie, as did I.
Excessive makeup, chemicals, waxing, curling, straightening, starving,
In an effort to appear “naturally” beautiful.
I read a survey in a women’s magazine.
They are notorious for selling the lie.
“Food or sex?” was the question.
Ridiculous to make one choose.
Naturally I choose both.
First, a juicy burger with Swiss on a brioche.
My lover will taste the red onion on my breath.
And he will know the truth.
A dalliance on an empty stomach.
Is not as good.
A girlfriend laments “I spent $175 at a spa yesterday”.
“I just wanted to feel pretty”, she justifies.
“Pricey”, I comment.
“Any suggestions?” she frowns.
“Of course” I continue.
“Buy socks, ditch the panties, eat a burger and see what happens”