Pass the man blinders please.

by mssinglemama on April 24, 2008

I’m trying to avoid them but I can’t help noticing them. Lots of them.


They’re every where. And for some reason, doesn’t matter if Benjamin’s with me or not – they’re all checking me out. The first few times I thought it was all in my head. The blatant stares and smiles. But now…there have been so many I know I’m not hallucinating.

Here are the reasons for this phenomenon.

  • It’s mating season. Everyone is on the hunt.
  • My single glow. I have more time for self-grooming.
  • The fact that I don’t want a man right now. It’s like they know. And to men – that’s hot. The unattainable.

To me, men might as well be ugly octopuses with purple, fleshy skin – skin with boils and blisters- and bulging eyeballs. Right now men are scary.

Then I see them. Damn it. They’re just so beautiful.

Yummy, delicious men. In the bookstore, in the coffee shop, in restaurants, on sidewalks. Yesterday it was a firefighter. Yes, a firefighter. I’m telling you – when I say it’s raining men, I’m not exaggerating. This story proves that karma or fate is either trying to torture me or telling me to just bite the bullet and date one of them.

Benjamin and I were shopping in a little boutique down the street, hip clothes and such, when he decided to tear out of the store’s open door into the parking lot. I went running outside screaming, “STOOOPPPPP!”

He had stopped – face down on the pavement in front of a parking car.

The guys in the car got out.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine.” Now go away. Go away men.

And then I noticed the fire truck. Perfect. A distraction – for me and for Benjamin. “Look, honey, look at the big fire truck! Want to go see it?”

The three guys saunter off to grab their lunch at the cafe next door. Coast clear. We start walking up to the fire truck and then out from the back window pops – a hand – a hand that belongs to the sexiest fire fighter I’ve ever seen. Shit.

“Hi, buddy! Want to get up inside the truck?”

Benjamin gets shy all of a sudden. The firefighter jumps out, but Benjamin is still hiding and cuddling up on me.

“He’s got a bad cold, normally I think he’d be trying to climb up onto the roof.”

“You should bring him to the station sometime we can show him the hoses and everything.”

“Really? People do that? They just bring their kids to the fire station?”

“Yeah. All of the time.” He told me the station’s address. “Bring him down! It’s fun!”

So what do you think? Should I even enter a fire station? I want to for Benjamin. He would love it, and it’s just down the street.

But, what would happen to me if I walked into a building filled with men? I might burst and be forced to ask one out - against my better judgment. Or even worse, one might ask me out. Maybe I should just keep on avoiding them at all costs. Slimy purple octopuses. Slimy purple octopuses. Slimy purple octopuses.


I don’t know why – but comparing men to big purple slimy octopuses makes me smile. It’s the first analogy that came to mind. Hope I don’t offend you, my beautiful, beautiful men.

[Photo credits: Ugly Purple Octopusand Firefighter]

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