Pampers and Thongs 

“I’m gonna go do my nails.  You gonna be alright?” The Pirate Queen bounces out thedoor, purse in hand, thongs on feet. This is one last check-in, before she goesand pampers herself. Yes, thongs and pampers, quite the sexy image.  We like to spice things up.

“I’m good, thanks for asking though. Enjoy.”  Yeah, I know, it’s not the mostromantic thing I could have said. Romance is like wine, and I still haven’tworked out what goes well with thongs and pampers. Rushing to the door,grabbing her in my arms and taking her in the doorway might be a little much.Besides, she gets complaints from her neighbors after I leave.

Knock-Knock!

“Yes?”

“Hi, it’s me again. From across the hall?  Could you tell your boyfriend to leavehis clothes on? The white light reflecting from the hall light, off his bodyactually turns the peephole into a laser. This is the  second  bird we’ve replaced this month. Youunderstand, don’t you?”

“Yes of course.”

“Good, now where can I get me a nice thong-pamper ensemblelike that?

So, I decide to lay low.  I recline in the couch and wave as she goes.  She’ll be gone for a bit. It gives me achance to relax and reflect.

We’ve been “together” since earlier this year, and she’sbeen in California for a month. It’s a good time for a reflection.  It’s time to take a look at where westand.

It’s funny, we’ll call each other all the special names, andyeah, we’ve even admitted to loving each other, but neither of us seem to beable to say the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend.”  I can only speak for myself, but I will say that it hasnothing to do with the level of affection. I really do love this woman.

On the other hand, to identify what woman with trite terms Iidentified the schoolgirl ingénues of my life seems like an insult. The PirateQueen isn’t a girlfriend. She’s a woman, who is very dear to me. Sure, I stillcarry her books, and play with her Barbies, but it’s different now. I stand ina place of reverence. I respect her.

Today in the car, she pointed out the window, “Look! Thoseare pretty dresses. Oh, wait! They’re wedding dresses. I’m sorry.” 

Nope. We don’t stand there either.

We are in a place where we enjoy each other’s company. Lastnight we went to the observatory. It’s in the same park as the Greek Theater.  The theater was running a weekend long Prog-rockersextravaganza. Prog rockers are creature that I had thought was all but extinct.They’re not. They’re like ants. They hide underground with their Rush andGenesis CDs until there’s a musical event, and then they all scurry out fromthe walls. I felt insulted because I wasn’t invited to this one. I had left myRush CDs at home.

The park was full. Between the Prog-ants and people lookingfor the local fires, the rangers had closed off several roads. In fact, therewas only one road to the observatory. Trust me, we tried several other roads to get there.

“This one dead ends.”
“I see that.”

“What does the map say?”

“It says that it doesn’t know where we are. Neither do I.”

“But you’re a local!”

“Only by proximity. The last time I was here almost 15 yearsago.”

“Fine! I’m going back.”

“Uhm according to the guy with the gun and the Sheriffuniform that’s all you can do.”

I tried using the maps on my cell phone, but it’s amazinghow close you can be to Los Angeles and still lose cell service. It’s one ofthose moments that define a relationship.

Define ours as flexible.  We did well through the twisting roads of our afternoon, andalthough we arrived at the observatory in late evening, we also arrived in goodspirits, and most importantly, we arrived together.

We had a good time looking at the stars, and the burninghillside.  It was nice to sharethese experiences with someone. After going through a divorce, I wasn’t sure ifI’d do that again. I’m old and ornery. That’s not something many people are looking for.

The Pirate Queen is a list-a-holic.  She says it gets her kicked out ofparties.

“Yes, three! Three wonderful bottles of Tequila!”

We both have our plusses and our minuses. The best thing sofar, has been that we’re both comfortable enough with ourselves. I love thatabout her. I love that I can disagree, and she’s ok. She may not change hermind, but she’s happy with who I am too.

It’s why I’m sitting on her couch typing as she get hernails done. It’s two adults feeling comfortable enough to spend time togetheror away from each other. Whether it’s on a couch in shorts and a T, or if it’sin the doorway with pampers and thongs, we’re happy around each other. That’sthe best reflection of them all.

I’d tell you more, but she’s home. Call me silly, but I’drather spend time with her. She’s pampered up and ready to go.