Ova The Hill?

CRUSHED:

I met this guy about two years ago at a networking event and was completely enamored by him on sight. I mean, when my eyes fixed on him, my lips wanted to kiss him and my mind called him my “new boyfriend!” Anyway, turns out he was married; we exchanged business contact info, engaged in some idle chatter and got out of each others face (before a problem arose).

I saw him waiting for the train the other morning and because I didn’t like my hair – nor my shoes – and my nails needed a fresh coat – and my mood was tired, I positioned myself behind a pillar, out of his view…yes, I hid!

Man, he looked even better than when I first met him. I laughed at myself (once I was tucked safely away in another car). I sat smiling on the inside and thinking…I’m too old for this shyte!

POLE DANCING:

My girl-crew and I decided to have a social night on the town a couple weeks ago; my best friend suggested pole dancing, so that’s where the eight of us headed. We were psyched and full of red wine…this was going to be the best girl’s night ever.

There were about ten other women in the spot, including the instructors (aka strippers – sike). The disco lights and music set the atmosphere to HO, the wine had me at SUPER-HO and I was ready to get my pole on…or should I say “get my – on the pole.”

I swirled and twirled and strutted and switched, until the instructor (stripper – lol) said she didn’t like how I was moving – she said I needed more “umph” in my sway. I went on at my best for about another half hour, slowly realizing that the hope of supplementing my income as a part-time private dancer was dissipating, almost as fast as I fell slid down that pole.

About ten minutes before the music stopped, I’d decided I had enough humiliation for one evening and changed out of my stripper gear; knocked off the last of the wine as I sat wondering why my right arm felt swollen… I soothed my bruised ego with the affirmation that I’m just too old for this shyte!