i'm dating a great guy. he's funny, tons of personality, socially savvy, nice looking.
good. good. it's all good.
and except for a few minor idiosyncrasies, he has maybe the best potential for long term possibilities than any man i've dated in the last year.
there is the issue of his piece, though.
yes.
my new man has a piece. and i don't mean a handgun,
the first couple of times we were out together i wasn't all the way sure. it's a pretty good little rug. but now, after several dates... let's just say i'm sure. all doubt removed, if you know what i mean.
of my not mentioning it "just in case he thinks i don't notice."
it sits on his head; like an elephant that neither of us acknowledge. i catch him now and then kind of fluffin it around in the back when it gets a little... askew. but i always turn away before he notices me noticing.
watching television with him is an adventure in anxiety. still in our first month of dating, i'm not sure how to react to a GirlsGoneWild commercial, let alone a Hair Club for Men infomercial. i'd almost rather sit through a Viagra ad and watch him squirm. (he's 51, but i do think down there he is au natural).
we were at a baseball game last week and i found myself staring at the side of his head, trying to find the dividing line between the real stuff there around his ears and the fur. i can feel it when i pull my fingers through his ...um, hair. i know it's stitched in there somehow. i think the front of it might be velcroed on. which frankly, fascinates me. if i ever get the balls to ask him about it, i'm gonna want to see it. like, "take that shit off and let me hold it," you know?
for those of you who know me (both of you), you know that i can be honest to a fault. let's face it: i'm a lot of things and tactful is not one of them. i have bad breath from putting my foot in my mouth all the time. so, naturally i've been tempted to just give that little carpet a good hard yank; as if in a fit of wild passion i grabbed the first thing i could get hold of.
but i can't. i'm afraid i'll embarrass him; or embarrass myself. i like him. i don't want to be cruel, hurt his feelings....but you know me... i can't just not say anything...me & my shoddy internal sensors... but once it's out there... then what? because if it comes right down to it--i want to talk about it. i don't like pretending i don't notice. but... like a lot of things, i want him to say it first.
i like bald. most women do. i'm sure he doesn't wear it so women will dig him. he is attractive; hair is not going to make or break him. all i can figure is he wears it to make himself feel more confident. i can dig that. i guess. can i?
He's a successful businessman. he's a salesman to his bone marrow. he's got it in his blood. he's a big flirt, also (see idisyncrasies as mentioned above). so maybe his confidence is tied up in his hair...in this case stitched and probably held up there by some form of velcro tape as well.
i had a date last night. with a different guy (yeah, get me, huh. i haven't had a real date in 8 months.. this month i've got a selection!). this guy has his own hair. grey and kind of clinging on for dear life, but all original owner stuff. and we had a really good time. he's nice looking, super kind, considerate. but doesn't have the wild streak that my wig-man has. a fun rug trumps a ho-hum head of hair any day. it doesn't matter to me whether he wears the hair or not, it just bothers me that we don't talk about it. .. like he's ashamed of it... maybe he just needs some temporary confidence to push him over the edge. i hear viagra is a good boost. we could try that.