“A human being is a being who is constantly ‘under construction,’ but also, in a parallel fashion, always in a state of constant destruction.”~ Jose Saramago
I’m not one who gets sucked into the world of fashion. I have deaf ears towards those who tell me what I should and should not be wearing season by season, year after year.
In fact, I get on the nearest soap box when I am shopping for clothes and I find something that I like, and the price tag is well over $20.
And boy do I get LOUD.
But this purchase of many years ago landed me a nice comfortable button up blue shirt that I had actually found in a Chinese shop in a shopping mall. Complete with gold stitching of Chinese dragons.
Under $20 (even from a shopping mall) and there was another one that was red in color. I wanted both but could not afford them both. So I bought the blue and made plans to go back and by the red at a later date.
Unfortunately it was more than a year before I would return to that same shopping mall. And that Chinese shop was gone and replaced with a GNC store.
I never got the red. But I had the blue. And I have been wearing it only during special events or important dates or whatever. Now I wear it whenever I go out to a show whether its local or out of town.
Over the years, it has had its ups and downs. It’s been mended and sown back together again in the shoulder area. Thanks to the mother of the woman that you do not see here in the photograph, who is wearing the blue leopard print style dress.
However during the first “date” that I wore the shirt on, I noticed that the woman would not keep her hands to herself. She kept rubbing all over wherever there was this soft silky-feeling material.
I observed her hands and her eyes throughout the rest of the night. She just found something about it to be irresistible.
I wore it again at another official function and people were coming up to me, placing their hands around my shoulders and up and down my back, softly drawing their fingertips up and down my spine.
Nobody else was doing this but females. When I button up this shirt and I head outside…. apparently I am unstoppable and irresistible.
Feel my Chinese silky wrath!!! Oh wait… you already do.
I have about a half a dozen nice looking shirts where this has happened when I was wearing them. But none so much as the blue shirt. I finally had to name it: Lady Killer #1. And it went up to #3 but 2 and 3 were destroyed or discarded by the foolish and careless.
When women see me in it, they can’t help themselves but to touch it. Some announce that they are about to, others just get a free feel.
When I was out the other night, I promised I was going to write about this….. but this past Tuesday, I was sitting outside on the sidewalk getting fresh air and some random drunk woman just totally attacked me from behind. She grabbed as much of the shirt that she could in her palm and began to pull.
With the PTSD that I get to deal with…. it wasn’t the best of ideas for her to have. But she suddenly and mysteriously let go as she had grabbed it in the first place. As I pulled away from whomever was attacking me, this woman rolled her face and chest all over my back. Her hands all over my arms, neck, shoulders, and chest……. IN public!!!
I was in very close range of her face to find her eyes totally red and bloodshot. Her breath smelling like the lethal mixture of high grade alcohol and tobacco.
Vyper Lily stepped up to remove the woman from her attachment to my body however her male counterpart actually had her by one of her hands and pulled her back in line to continue on their journey. I heard her shout at me as she walked off “Oh my God!! I fucking love that shirt!! I WANT IT!!” to which the answer by her male companion was “Shut up and keep walking.”
Over the years, women have been discreet or secretive about putting their hands on me, or rather the shirt instead of just asking me about it. There have been times when women have asked if it was okay to touch it. And then we had this drunken sow.
So its been all over the place. Touched by countless women, married, single, divorced, or otherwise. And it doesn’t discriminate either. All kinds and manners of females have felt the shirt. If there was a way to charge people to do it, I would do it. But you just cannot stop someone from wanting to come up and start feeling around. Especially like the drunk who came from behind.
I guess that I should be feeling lucky that nobody has gone “Beatlemania” on my butt and torn the thing right off my body.
It still reigns supreme. Nobody can resist it.