Saturday, November 30, 2019


In a previous post, while disparaging cell-phones and the younger-than-the-stereotypical-boomer-generation, I spoke of fried liver and onions, bus rides, and, in passing, mentioned that I was single, and do not foresee that changing.
In San Francisco any one of those three are fraught subjects. Many people absolutely HATE liver and onions, and almost nobody is fond of the other two. Bus rides and singularity cause more traffic accidents than almost anything else. Along with cell-phones.

Except for rabid non-smokers running out into traffic to get away from that horrible smell.


Regarding the need for a cell-phone, I postulated that it would serve two possible purposes, the second being to arrange trysts or assignations, about which I wrote: "[] that just ain't happening, hasn't happened in aeons, and is just not likely to happen till I'm the last man on earth.

Pursuant which I received this comment under that post: "Hmmm, dunno! I'm not a womanizer, but I am sure, like me, every sane man can get a woman that fits his needs. The only thing he (you) has to do to get there is fulfilling her needs. So, Aboth, it's all up to your priorities!....I guess!"

Number one: that presumes that there is a woman, in actual presence or in prospect. There isn't. No needs to fulfill.
Number two: It also presumes that I'm a sane man. Which I can't be, because I am counter-arguing someone who wants me to fulfill the hypothetical needs of someone I have yet to meet.

Do women really exist? Maybe they are just figments of my imagination.

Actually, like most people, I know plenty of women, but not in such a way that they might welcome expressions of interest. Nor would I ever wish to sabotage the very good relationships that I currently have with them. "Hello miss Blutig, I wish to reschedule my medical appointment, and also ask you out for a tasty meal at this charming little place I know." " Miss Plorn, please give me your number before you drop me off at my stop." "Miss Pondorosa, I shall have the steak, now please run off with me."

On second thought, miss Pondorosa is out of the question.
Too much familiarity with very sharp meat knives.

"Thanks for the flu shot. Let's do coffee sometime."

While I like the concept that there's a woman for every man, I find it hard to accept. If it were so, there would not be so many folks on dating sites, or so many single older people taking dancing lessons. And the yoga studios would have to close down.

Yeah, no, NOT going to take yoga classes. Or cruise in the vegetable section of the Marina Safeway (is that still a thing?). If I don't meet a like-minded person during my normal routine, it just isn't going to happen. And unlike the bird of paradise, I shan't do a little attention-getting dance at regular intervals.

On a daily basis I must see hundreds of people.
I'm probably not "magnetic" enough.
And not very outgoing.


The terms 'daily basis' and 'normal routine' include but are not limited to going to chachantengs and bakeries, having snacks or actual meals, wandering through alleys while smoking my pipe, shopping, occasionally visiting the clinic in the hospital to make sure my refills will be ready at the pharmacy, browsing for books, and being in transit to work, present at work, or returning from work. Plus writing essays for this blog, and corresponding with other people (other pipe smokers, relatives, old friends, newer friends).

Also included in the terms above are porkchops, cups of Hong Kong milk tea, home cooked curry dishes, and occasional pastries.

Even though steak is mentioned, it's not a regular part of the programme.
I'd much rather have fried rice stick noodles.
Or dumplings.

You wouldn't mind me dating your sister. But I think your sister probably wouldn't want to date me in any case.


Since I brought them forth out of my imagination, I feel great responsibility for misses Eustance Blutig, Annie Plorn, amd Irmgard Pondorosa. As well as their equally fanciful friend Elegansie Tampulo, who graduated (cum laude) from the finest girl's finishing school in Quezon City.
I'm almost avuncular that way.

Eustance Blutig avowedly hates cuisines with terms she can't pronounce (but she can pronounce everything, just ask her), Annie Plorn is desperate to keep her looks and her finely drawn eyebrows for as long as possible, Irmgard Pondorosa is steadily amassing a fortune in real-estate deals, and Elegansie ("Dolly") Tampulo doesn't date boring white men. All of them love karaoke, and do it every week. They sing very well, and appreciate the appreciation of their colleagues and friends.

I think they may like long walks on the beach by moonlight while a guitar softly plays in the background, with their golden retrievers,

While by themselves.

They are all talented women, and have great senses of humour.
As their relatives know.

This may not be the only time they appear.

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