What Does She See In Him?

Sorry, peeps.  I'm using a lot of the earth's energy doing silly A.I. stuff.  I've been told that what is going to put the brakes on A.I. technologies is energy.  We are running out of enough to let it keep progressing.  All that means to me, though, is that I will get priced out of it.  It will be like fine medical care--only for those wealthy enough to afford it.  Like everything ever.  

But being a prisoner of circumstance, it's all I have to do.  And now, like the Rolling Stones. . . have you seen that shit?  

Shitty song, but. . . everybody wants to be young again.  I'm not the only one doing that.  

That was me on a small bridge with a girl I dated.  

I've been watching "Californication" with my mother.  She told the neighbor.  Lots of titties.  Lots of fucking.  It got me thinking.  You know what makes the show so funny?  It's like a role reversal.  No guy gets to live like that except maybe Warren Beatty back in the day.  Nope.  Whenever I hear about a guy sleeping with a girl, I wonder, "What in the world did she see in him?"  Almost always.  

I know that is what people would think about me.  Have thought.  

"What in the world does she see in him?"

We never think that about a woman.  Women can have sex just about any time they want.  Now I'm exaggerating some, but you know that where I'm headed, the general direction, is true.  Attention is like oxygen.  Women just breathe it in and out without thinking, but a guy lives holding his breath looking for a quick hit of the old O2.  

"Did you see that?  No shit!  That girl just smiled at me!"

Pant, pant, pant. . . get yo'sef some air, boy.  

Mick Jagger probably didn't have any trouble, but I still wonder, "WTF do they see in him?"

This guy's dumb.  This guy's boring.  This one watches football.  This one is into Superheroes.  

Etc. 

I think maybe male and female vision is as different as their sex organs.  There can be no other explanation.  

The girl in the picture and I had a lot of fun for a few years.  Off and on.  I was about 100 years older than she.  She took me to meet her parents.  I think one of them might have been younger than I.  Crazy.  But we would tire of one another and see other people until one day we just stopped.  The wife of one of the biggest builder's in town was friends with my ex, and she was actively trying to set the girl up with an attorney fellow she knew.  So. . . she went that way and I went the other.  

One day, I was stopped at a stop sign and she pulled up behind me and waved me over.  She wanted to hook up again.  

"I can't.  I'm seeing someone."

"C'mon.  We always had fun.  We were always out doing things, laughing, eating, drinking.  My boyfriend wants to stay at home on the weekend and eat sandwiches and watch golf.  I'm tired of lawyer dick."

Well now, that was quite a compliment that thrilled me to my flip-flops, but I'm just not that kind of guy.  

She caused me a lot of trouble later on, but that's another story.  The point of this one is, eventually a woman's vision clears and she sees what a mistake she has made.  

"He's got a fucking Star Wars poster!"

I'm familiar with this, of course.  

I'm seeing my beautician on Saturday for the first time since mid February.  I look bad, scraggly and homeless.  I think I'm going to chop off my locks.  It could be hideous.  Probably will be.  But. . . I will always be able to fix it in A.I. just like the Stones.  I'm a deep fake anyway, just another victim of time and circumstance.  

PMA.  PMA.  PMA.  

I'm not very good at that.  I think too much.  That's what I've been oft told.  I was sitting in an airport after a climb with my Yosemite buddy, and he said that exact thing.  I don't believe he meant it as a compliment.

I replied, "What goes on in your head.  "Chair. . . carpet. . . backpack. . . girl walking. . . airplane"?

He laughed and said, "Pretty much."

He was kidding, I'm sure.  

Right?