Sunday, March 30, 2014

A Blog About (Hot) Dudeskis

It is kinda starting to get warmer outside. So that means I am doing some guy watching. There are these guys who play basketball in the court across the street from me. They are all ages. Sometimes they are teenagers but look kind of old. Other times they obvious grown men. And sometimes it's an all ages game.

The hot boys are coming out and they are on the court. I mean, these boys is fine yo. The other day, it was the first warm day in like forever. So these guys wanting to strut their machoness and manhood were playing shirtless. They were yum like Betty Crocker. The youngest was like nineteen and the oldest was I don't know how old. But they all looked fantastic. The entire time I watched by the side of the court like a weird stalker. What can I say, it had been a long winter and they were making me sweat along with them.

However, when I say the entire time I meant five minutes. I felt creepy and pathetic, like I was throwing my feminist ideals out the window. I thought if I made eye contact one would wave. But I didn't. Instead, the angry feminist returned and she yelled at me in my head. There was a world to conquer and these men had a basketball game to win. They can win their game, and I can conquer the world and make them my concubines.


Anyway, my Mema Ralph aka my dad's mom always said that I needed a nice Catholic boy.She said not just to ask God for a husband, but for the right one. So there was this hottie in church the other Sunday. He was coming in as I was coming out. I was in my cute little dress and tried to flash him a smile. No such luck. I tried again. Then I saw he was with his grandmother and what looked to be a brother. He was so not into me. God had not answered my prayers on that Johnny Angel.

Then this Sunday I went back to see if I could snag me the same hottie but he did not materialize. Instead another one who gave me the diss. One that I was not into was totally into me. Then I heard God say, "My house is not a pick up joint."

And I said, "God, you are no fun."

So  I left church, ran down the stairs, and fell on my ass.

God had the last laugh.


April Brucker
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

Come see my DVD taping
Metropolitan Room
April 22nd @ 7pm
34 W. 22nd Street

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