7:12pm: Walking the campus with a backpack on my back, I feel like I'm still a student here...transported back in time. My reverie is broken when I see my reflection in a glass wall. I've lost some hair and gained a beard that's as much gray as brown in the intervening...how many years? Calculating.... Holy smokes, really?!? Well, it's less than 30 years...yes, definitely less than 30. I'll take comfort in that fact, since 30 years would be a very long time. :-) All too soon, I'll have to redefine what constitutes a very long time...but that's a worry for another day.
Two of my equally sexless good friends were very short, and came up with a theory they quite liked - that women only wanted tall guys. In joke-filled late night conversations, they would fantasize about what a swath they'd cut through the campus women if only they were taller. As I was taller than average, they would mockingly shake their heads and call me "a waste of height."
I think about my friends who went to ESU, and I just shake my head. From the tales they told, they may as well have been on another planet, not just at a different school. But when I think about what would have happened if I'd gone there, the most likely scenario is that I wouldn't have gotten laid when everyone around me was, which is much much worse - far better to not get laid when none of my friends were either. Best not to pursue this line of thinking.
8:03pm: Coming back to the present, I can't help admiring the coeds passing by - leggy young things in short shorts and t-shirts or tank tops. I can't help feeling a little like a voyeur or a dirty old man - but I simply can't help myself. I can't imagine that I'll ever lose my appreciation for the magic of the female form. The Sensual Goddess is fond of saying, in situations like this, "She's young enough to be your daughter." While that may be true, my response is always the same. "But that one's *not* my daughter." I'm just looking, and am completely harmless.
8:24pm: I love sitting anonymously in a public place and people-watching. I really am a voyeur, in every sense of the word. I enjoy watching and observing.
Question: when you're sitting and watching people walk past, do you ever play a game with yourself where you give yourself 10 seconds to decide on which passerby you'd most like to fuck? Ummm...no, I don't either. ;-) But if I did, it could be an amusing game. A sample from this evening might go like this.
And...go! Too young. Too young. Wow...but still too young. (Holy smokes...really? You're sure she's too young? Yes, stop it, keep looking!) Look at her...a little older...short yellow sun-dress, look at the legs! Time's almost up, is it her, or keep looking? No, it's her, yellow sun-dress! *ding*A busty brunette in gym shorts and a tank top who walked by two seconds later might have been a better choice...but you have to make quick decisions, and you can't second-guess yourself. In the purely theoretical event you ever play this game....
9:01pm: I just thought of a girl I hadn't thought about in a very long time. Possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever known (no offense to anyone currently sharing my bed and last name. :-)) She was half-Japanese and simply *gorgeous*. Exotic, fashion-model beautiful, tall, slim, leggy, busty. Possibly the last boyhood crush I ever had. Thinking about her made my heart *ache*. And I couldn't think about anything except her. We got to be friends - but in today's terminology, I was very much friend-zoned. We went to the movies together, and I'd phone her late at night and we'd talk talk talk. But I was so shy in those days that if she'd wanted to be more than friends, she would have had to take the first, second, and third steps. And she never gave any indication that she wanted to be more than friends. So it didn't happen. Very sweet...very innocent...very bittersweet.
9:19pm: I've relocated to a campus Starbucks. While walking over here, I saw two young ladies walking toward me, young but not undergrads (i.e., not *too* young), both pretty and sexy in an understated classy way. One with short blonde hair...shorter...bustier...in a short white dress. The taller one, longer brunette hair, short blue dress. My internal conversation went something like this:
Okay, Max, which one?Then I asked myself why? It wasn't because she's blonde - I don't have a preference for hair color (though I tend to gravitate to brunettes.) Bigger tits? No. Of course I appreciate a nice rack, but that wasn't the deciding factor. Watching them walk, the blonde just seemed more comfortable in her body...it seemed like there was a slight swish in her walk that held the promise of delightful mischief. Of course it could all have been in my head....
Which one? Well, duh - how about both!
No, that's a fantasy for another time. You have to pick *one*. Which one? Quickly now.
Hmmm...there isn't really a wrong choice is there?
No, there sure isn't...just look at them.... But c'mon now, play along. Which one?
I really have to pick....? Okay, the blonde.
9:46pm: Time to wrap up my campus daydreaming and go pick up my concert-going girls. This was fun. Until next time.