Best of my old blog #9 Bus Goddess

So I'm sitting on the preternaturally (don't really know if its the right word, but who the hell cares?) late bus last night, riding home after a long and insane day as an Increased Income Facilitator, and this girl gets on a few stops after. We're talking about a complete knockout here, utterly breath-takingly gorgeous, and not in the boozy "I see big boobs" sort of way. Like a painting, like a sculpture, like a song. That kind of beautiful.

She sits down in front of me, and as she gracefully slides into the seat, she flips this insanely thick, shiny chestnut hair to one side, revealing the nape of her neck (much like the Japanese, I consider the nape of the neck as an erogenous zone) and this tiny shell-like ear, complete with perhaps five piercings along the top curve.

I swear to you, I was so focused on her that I heard the rings tinkling as she tucked one loose strand behind her ear.

Without meaning to, I found myself imagining lying next to this girl (who in all likelihood is way to young. Icelandic girls tend to mature way to early for their own good, leaving the male population stuck between biology screaming "IMPREGNATE HER NOW!!!" and society bitchslapping them back into line with "SHE'S ONLY 17!!!!") on cool sheets and tickling the rings, listening to them tinkle together as we drift off to sleep.

This incident illustrates two things:

One, while I'm doing my damnedest to get over my romance crutch, I'm not out of the woods yet.

It's not that I'm against romance, or even that I disbelieve in it, it's just that I tend to focus on it too much, especially when I shouldn't. Thanks to some helpful talks with a good friend, I've begun to understand that I was using the romantic urge, and the "I want more than just sex" as an excuse to not even try to get sex, or flirting, or whatever. So now, I'm trying not to look for love, just for friendship and sex (which are not mutually exclusive, at least not always...but that's another blog) and I'll see what happens in the romance department later. But little romantic flashes like with Bus Goddess #14, not to confused with Bus Goddess #3 the incredibly sexy Korean/Icelandic women I see every now and then on my way up to Breiðholt, are proof that I'm still at least a little hooked on the romance.

And two, this illustrates that I am a dirty old perverted bus-riding ear-fetishist who wants to tickle the ears of a sculpture, a painting, or a song.

Ugh.