Having taken a mental vacation this weekend, I have little to say for myself. Friends, bopping around, cooking, joking, listening to music. Yeah, it has been a tough weekend. I even made it to Chinatown, attended the moon festival and was pleased to have dinner at my favorite place.
I go to this restaurant in Chinatown during the week for lunch sometimes. It is always empty during the day; but, it has the nicest people working there. They make my heart smile and they are always pleased to see me. I make a habit of doing that, of finding places where the operators are thrilled to see me come in, it is how I choose where I go to buy things.
Our lives are our days. I am always taking care of others in one form or another. When someone is going to serve me, I want them to have fun. I want to be the highlight of there day, if I can do that they will be thrilled when I come in. If I like a place, I will keep going there even if it is a little more expensive. I like my sense of community. I know the people I deal with.
I buy my sandwich meat at a particular store. I know a little bit about their lives and they know about mine. Little things. It makes the experience personal. I know my accountant and lawyer, I know about them and they know a heck of a lot about me. I know the two people I buy cigarettes from, one is very nice man who just got reunited with his sons. The other is lovely young lady who works full time to pay her way through school. I always ask what she is taking and how she is doing. I don't buy from stores, I buy from people.
I took a lovely lady to dinner in Palm Springs. By the end of the dinner, the waitress had told us everything, including that her husband was in jail and that she had considered harming him for having beat her. This was not any restaurant, it was very high end. I want to know about the people I am going to live my life with.
For decades I had a personal relationship with my insurance agent and the owner of my internet service providing company. I am no longer with that company as it was sold. I am not charming and I don't lie, I pick who I deal with. If you expect perfect service, you don't view the server as a person. I am more interested in who I am dealing with than their speed. My waiter last night is over 80, been doing the job for over 50 years and put in twelve hours yesterday. Yeah.
The most intimate sense is the sense of touch. It is the freedom to touch another's body as if it were your own, to share sense. A hug, a brush of the hand across an arm or a soft shoulder. When I was younger I didn't let anyone other than family touch me. I did not like to be touched, my dog is the same way. I only like to be touched by people I trust, people I feel comfortable with. I could never imagine sleeping with a stranger, it offends me. I don't care what others do, it offends me for me. I can't do it.
I want to be invited to touch, I want to respect that right; but, I also want the lady to wait to be invited to touch me. When both parties are completely willing and completely comfortable it is better. The slow dance. Anticipation, touch and go.
Touch and Go
Sunday, September 26, 2010
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