Sunday afternoon tête – à – tête

twofer.jpg If there is a way to eat a salad without looking unmanly, or at least like a wussy man, I haven’t found it. I suppose I might try to use chopsticks or just go at it like it’s a trough, but that piece of dressing-dripping lettuce clinging to my chin doesn’t sound like it would light fires in the hearts or even loins of witnessing women.

Speak for yourself. Personally, there’s nothing that makes my feminine loins more fuck-me-Elvis humid than a friendly, thousand-island plastered grin… except maybe hairy toes. I *love* hairy toes.

So the problem, then, is that I’ve been using a vinaigrette, even, on occasion, a super-wussy raspberry vinaigrette, rather than a good old fashioned creamy-chunky dressing. That, and shaving my toes. But it’s so soothing to have freshly-shaven toes.

You’re a toe-shaver? And you’re afraid it’s the salad bit that’s gonna make you look like a girly man?

Well, sure, I always figured that by the time a woman gets around to viewing the astoundingly smooth beauty of my perfectly shaven toes, my manliness will already be well proven. That might be a tad overly-optimistic, I know, especially with the salad as a stumbling block (even if the dressing does have Paul Newman on the label).

It depends what kind of woman you are trying to impress. Liberal, hippy, eco-friendly girls dig the whole ‘Oh look, he eats like a rabbit’ thing. Organic dressing might even get you to first base, but if you’re trying to wow one of those Daughter of the Revolution sorts you better start ordering bloody, undercooked steaks, and forego the silverware for a bowie knife. (It might also be helpful to invest in a platter-sized belt-buckle).

You make an excellent point, but if I start getting all macho like that, it won’t be long until I can’t even shave my own toes. Sure, sure, I know what you’re thinking: By that time I’d have someone who would be all hot and happy about shaving them for me, but I still wouldn’t be able to admire their smoothness over the platter sized belt-buckle. How about a compromise. I’ll eat my salad with a Bowie knife?

Remember, compromises tend to please no one. You start pulling weaponry on your veggies, the hippy chicks are gonna write you off as too militant. The D.A.R’s will view you as hopelessly backwater. The only ones who are gonna be impressed by that are nutbars and fruit-loops…. (which, by the way, sounds like a better lunch than a wussy-assed plate full of glorified weeds.)

Well damn, nutbars and fruit-loops sounds like a perfect lunch! And the perfect companions for lunch! So do you want to join me then? I promise, no pictures of Paul Newman this time, but, just because it’s you, I may leave something or other dangling off my chin.

My hero.

12 thoughts on “Sunday afternoon tête – à – tête

  1. The only thing that bugs me about a man that eats salad would be the raspberry vinaigrette, BUT that would be easily overlooked it that same man took out a Bowie knife and ate his salad with it!

  2. What *exactly* is raspberry vinaigrette, and where can one purchase some? Certainly not at the “fuck me Elvis” store…

    Ha! I love this…

  3. hi, hi

    David- we got mad skillzz, yo. (you’re right, the beginning does sound like something you’d write!)

    tgp- aw, shucks

    Corina- plus, he could get rid of any absesses cheaply!

    barbara- K, I’ll try and strive for clarity. Tim and I decided on the phone to try writing something together. We didn’t plan what would come out, just went back and forth, and the result is like a lot of our weird conversations. His parts are in blue, mine in purple. We liked it, so Sunday afternoon conversations might become a ‘thing’ on here for awhile.

    Bob- Heh. You liked that bit, huh? I’m kinda shocked there isn’t a fuck-me-Elvis gift shop already in place at Universal Studios. Boy are they missing a novelty dollar opportunity.

    jo- lol, that just figures cus I had about decided you were right, and I could see the differences in this one. And I hear you. I like Italians and they’re pretty fuzzy.

  4. (grin) 0h I don’t mean that you have exact same voices, etc, but this worked so well because of the similarity in pacing, etc, fuzzy Italians, snort, yes, please ;)

  5. I don’t think I’ve ever judged a man on what he ate, though I must be a liberal, because a guy who eats salad has me thinking, “Oh, good, fiber…at least he won’t get colon cancer”….

    Went to dinner with some folks once who used their veggie drawer to store their beer. Freaked my husband the hell out. That’s why I married him. ;)

  6. You failed to mention the whole Caesar salad conundrum. How do you eat salad containing hunks of fried bread? Is it acceptable to eat salad with your hairy toes?

  7. Thanks, everyone. Doing this was a lot of fun, and it just sort of happened. I wrote what popped in my mind at that moment, then amuirin wrote some and…well, there you go.

    Stevo–Thanks. I don’t think Caesar salad is really a conundrum; it’s an aberration. But if you can go at it with hairy toes; well, there may be a YouTube fan base for you just waiting.

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