The past couple of days have been quite enjoyable as I celebrated my birthday over the weekend. Saturday, I had dinner with Bellini & Rum Punch. Then we chilled at a local bar and some more friends joined us for drinks and a lil' two step while watching a live band perform. Yesterday, I spent the anniversary of my birth with the woman who made it possible. We attended a fundraiser for an organization that I volunteer a lot of my time with and saw a brother named Baratunde Thurston perform. You could say he's a comedian (he is funny as hell); I'd say he's more of a social humorist. The native Washingtonian is not only witty, but also insightful and revolutionary. Check him out when you get a chance. Moms enjoyed him as well. After Baratunde's performance, we stopped by a bar down the street for a lil' toast and chit chat.
My parents will tell you that I wasn't born 'til a lil' after 6PM, therefore they don't officially wish me happy birthday until around that time. During the earlier hours of the day, they'll tell a version of the same story about my mother's water breaking on the day she was scheduled for a C-section (I came pushing into this world 12 days late) and her 12 hours of labor and my father getting cursed out for looking for parking instead of dropping my mom off at the emergency room door ... lol. You get the picture. So by the time mom and I sat down and were served our drinks, it was 6:15. How perfect was that?
Those who know Mama Stormy know she is an unforgettable woman. She is warm and comical. She will talk to anybody, which can be annoying at times. She gives it to you straight, with no chaser. And I swear this woman knows a little bit about everything! Any subject... she got a lil known history fact or random tidbit of information tucked into her brain. So of course, it was only a matter of minutes before she made friends with the folks sitting at the bar. Within half an hour, the bartender had become a part of her captivated audience as well.
Once mom spilled the beans about it being my birthday, it was a wrap. The bartender made me a drink- on the house. A man sitting right next to mom, who had been giving me the eye for a minute, made his way over to me. He introduced himself, told me how much he enjoyed mom's words of wisdom, and ordered us another round of drinks. Three hours later (yes really) we had discussed the presidential primaries, gentrification, the value of the Euro, gas prices, social uprising in Kenya, colonization in Africa... And sex.
As I returned from a trip to the bathroom, I heard my mom say "If you don't do anything else, be sure to make love to a blind person before you die. Or rather, before your pipes dry up, if you know what I mean." WTF??? Oh it's time to go home. Apparently, she somehow had landed on the topic of how our hangups about visual appearances can get in the way of us enjoying sex. Furthermore, a blind person's heightened sense of touch, taste, smell, and hearing increase their ability to awaken these senses within their sex partner. Her words y'all, not mine. And I did not even ask how she knew this. I simply assisted her in putting on her coat and scarf.
The guy from the bar gave me his number and expressed his interest in seeing me again. I enjoyed his company and I find him attractive, so I'm thinking about giving him a call. I do have one reservation. Our sexual compatibility.
Some would say I'm jumping the gun with such a thought. That's just how my mind works. It's not so much that I have only sex on the brain... I just like to evaluate compatibility on all levels. And sexual compatibility is very important to me. So I got up the nerve to mention it to my mom on the way home. I have a theory about the shape of a man's hands in relation to the shape of his sexual organ. The shape of his fingers, for example long and bony vs. short and stubby, give a good indication of the shape of his love below. Just my theory.
I didn't share the theory with mom, but I shared another related concern. This brother's ethnicity. I have heard that men within this particular ethnic group are not very well endowed. Though I have never witnessed it for myself. My mom started laughing and told me she has heard the same. She mentioned dating a man of the same ethnicity back in the day, whom she described as "depressingly small." She also said you can never know until you see it. There are exceptions to every rule.
Very true. In the book 'The Complete Kama Sutra', there is a breakdown of physical sexual compatibility and erotic science. It categorizes men's genitals in three types-bull, hare, and stallion; and women in three types- doe, mare, and cow-elephant. Obviously a matchup of an equal type is preferred to one that is unbalanced. Because I want to experience pleasure when making love.
My mom said to me "When you look for a potential mate/spouse, you are looking for pleasure, in addition to someone who can support you financially and with whom you can start a family with, right?" Absolutely. "In many cultures, still today, pleasure ain't part of the equation. It's about getting married, continuing a lineage, preserving a family name or legacy. There are no sexual expectations." Mmm hmm... I'm listening. "Therefore, in western cultures such as ours, women have a harder time finding suitable mates and become much more frustrated with not being able to find suitable mates, because they have higher expectations. They want it all. Not saying it's right or wrong, but the search and need for pleasure leaves most of us rarely or never satisfied."
Where the blind brother's at? I got small wrists and forearms... LOL!
Dark & Stormy
SO LONG, FAREWELL...
The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot