CLEANEST DIRTY OLD MAN ON STOCKTON STREET

Lordy, I must be radiating something. On the bus over the hill a curvy young blonde was staring at me and licking her lips. And less than an hour ago, a busty Philippina came over to where I was sitting in the bar and introduced herself.
These are promising developments. And yes, both of them were what a normal man would consider hot.

It's been years since such things happened. Maybe I wasn't aware of it before.

Or maybe, I wasn't broadcasting so well.

Whatever it is that I'm broadcasting.

Need to bottle this.... once I figure out what it is.

Back in the early nineties, while I was enjoying a nice quiet drink at the Edinburgh Castle - hard to do, what with the band playing 'Bang Me, Esmerelda' at full blast - a young thing with fabulous (!) mammaries tried to put the make on me. After several minutes of heavy breathing in my direction, she flopped out one of her endowments and started massaging it while making suggestive remarks. I did not react.
Honestly, what do you say at that point? "Young lady, put that AWAY!?"
Nope, you have to pretend that it doesn't exist.

Just say to yourself: "there is no pink fruit looking me in the eye, there is NO pink fruit looking me in the eye!"
Then repeat that like you really believe it.

After several minutes of pregnant play with a rosy part, she finally asked me if I was threatened by her femininity.

"No ma'am - not threatened. Appalled, yes, threatened, no."

Let's just say it was a bar-conversation that went nowhere, fast.



"THERE IS NO PINK FRUIT LOOKING ME IN THE EYE!"


But there just as well might be. Two young ladies were impressed by this old fossil. Oh my.

But the very best thing, by a very wide margin, was the young miss at the eatery in Chinatown. Not what you would call a sex-bomb. Just extremely nice looking. Very appealing.
She had an unstudied and unconscious charm - freshness and honesty, sincerity and warmth. When I ordered in Cantonese, her eyes just lit up.

Clearly I was as interesting to her, and conceivable far more so, than the young couple at the next table. That being a petite young miss with the look of a Teochew from Vietnam, with a blushing Caucasian gentleman. From my point of view, I really couldn't see what that little lady saw in him (well, other than his dewy unformed pinkness), but were I him I would very well understand her appeal. Moist fresh fruit, juicy looking, temptation mixed with vibrant girlishness.
They looked very sweet together. Very teenage.

But I had something that neither of those two had. Maybe it was my recent haircut (neat and distinguished), maybe my shy smile (very appealing, let me tell you). Perhaps my cleanly trimmed beard? It's dashing, in a pirate-like way. Or perhaps my ability to sound half-way civilized in a normal human language.
That may have been it. Yes. Along with a certain gentleness - I am vulpine, but not wolfish.

I really doubt that it was pheromones.

Wonton noodle soup, and Vietnamese coffee with ice and condensed milk. In the middle distance, a young lady with a very kind and expressive face, charming eyes. There's just something so adorable about a girl accoutred in a no-nonsense "I am just here to work" fashion. Especially when her visage has character, and shows an active intelligence and inquisitiveness.
As well as one of the most likeably smiles I've ever seen.

Probably the best lunch I've had in a long time.

I'll gladly toss over the Philippina and the blond. But I'm definitely going to that restaurant in Chinatown again.



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