How I Met Your Mother, Part 1
Look, I told her, I'm not interested in your politics. I don't care what Sean Hannity said. But you've still got a great set of tits for a woman your age and life's too short to waste it watching cable news and writing posts on Facebook about how life was so much better when you were a k**.
That finally caught her attention.
It had been two weeks of working with Jeannette before I finally stopped being nice and said what was on my mind. We were both part-timers at an otherwise dead-end job that was, for both of us, a way to make some extra money without having to work too hard. Those details are unnecessary. What's more important is the lesson I learned as a young man who grew up with the belief that you respect your elders and speak only when spoken to.
Despite the fact that Jeannette was almost 40 years older, I didn't view her as an "elder" with a life of experience I could learn from. Instead, she was a career housewife and mother now living here Florida in a retirement community off her dead husband's pension, insurance and whatever else she made off the sale of her house up north. He k**s are grown and she's a grandmother now and, since she is a talker, I've already been informed her k**s still tend to take more than they give.
She's lonely. Bored. Used to having people around to talk to about the weather, the k**s and the news. She got this job to get out of the house. She doesn't need the money. She hated going to the senior center because "they're all old fogies in there." Jeannette, for her age, has a lot of energy.
She also, as I mentioned, has a pretty fucking amazing body for her age. Once I stopped her in her tracks and said what I said -- in the open of this story -- I got to know the things I wanted to know about Jeannette rather than hear all the bullshit she thought me and anyone else wanted to hear.
"Excuse me?"
Jeannette, let's be honest. I'm 20. Do you think I care about politics?
"Probably not," she said.
What do you think guys my age think about most of the time?
She grinned as we worked side-by-side.
"Oh I think I can guess."
I'll give you three guesses.
Jeannette chuckled. She was finally speechless.
Go on, I said.
"Girls," she said.
Not specific enough, I replied. I glanced at her chest. Jeannette wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but she wasn't stupid. She knew about her tits. She knew about her body. She knew enough to buy v-neck tshirts that fit just right and accentuate cleavage. She was not about hiding them. So she was just playing dumb here.
"Well, with some guys it's boobs."
Winner winner, chicken dinner.
She laughed and let out an exhale that almost sounded like she was relieved. It was strange in a way, but she almost seemed to relax. She shook her head laughing and muttered, "Oh you're one of those."
I am.
After brief pause when another co-worker came by to make small talk, I pushed the conversation to continue as we finished our shift.
So, I asked as we sat in the break room, think I can guess how big?
She grinned. Her eyes brightened and her cheeks flushed with red.
"Are you serious?"
I'm pretty good at it.
She just stared back at me. I looked right at them, smashed into what was probably a soft comfort bra (no underwires, no lace) under her v-neck Old Navy t-shirt. The "O" in Old and the "vy" and Navy stretched around the sides of each tit.
38DD, I said.
She crossed her arms in front of her, suddenly looking awkward.
I'm right, aren't I.
Jeanette is blonde with fair skin. It's impossible for her to hide a blush, even after years of living in Florida. She was red-faced and biting her lip.
"You're a cocky one, aren't you?" she then said.
As we left to go to our cars in the parking lot, I leaned to her ear and said, "I just know life's too short to waste it worrying about the news and the weather. So if you want to enjoy life, let me know. I can help."
That night, I saw her online. Facebook, of course. I sent her a message.
"What has Megan Kelly said today?"
She sent back an LOL.
Then she typed. "Shouldn't you be looking at boobs or something?"
I replied, "I thought you'd never ask. I'll be right over."
She quickly typed, "I DIDN'T MEAN ME!"
I replied, "I did." with a evil grin emoji.
She typed, "You're so bad. Horny little devil."
I replied, "You wouldn't want me any other way."
After a pause, a smiling emoji appeared.
I knew it was a matter of time.....
(to be continued)
That finally caught her attention.
It had been two weeks of working with Jeannette before I finally stopped being nice and said what was on my mind. We were both part-timers at an otherwise dead-end job that was, for both of us, a way to make some extra money without having to work too hard. Those details are unnecessary. What's more important is the lesson I learned as a young man who grew up with the belief that you respect your elders and speak only when spoken to.
Despite the fact that Jeannette was almost 40 years older, I didn't view her as an "elder" with a life of experience I could learn from. Instead, she was a career housewife and mother now living here Florida in a retirement community off her dead husband's pension, insurance and whatever else she made off the sale of her house up north. He k**s are grown and she's a grandmother now and, since she is a talker, I've already been informed her k**s still tend to take more than they give.
She's lonely. Bored. Used to having people around to talk to about the weather, the k**s and the news. She got this job to get out of the house. She doesn't need the money. She hated going to the senior center because "they're all old fogies in there." Jeannette, for her age, has a lot of energy.
She also, as I mentioned, has a pretty fucking amazing body for her age. Once I stopped her in her tracks and said what I said -- in the open of this story -- I got to know the things I wanted to know about Jeannette rather than hear all the bullshit she thought me and anyone else wanted to hear.
"Excuse me?"
Jeannette, let's be honest. I'm 20. Do you think I care about politics?
"Probably not," she said.
What do you think guys my age think about most of the time?
She grinned as we worked side-by-side.
"Oh I think I can guess."
I'll give you three guesses.
Jeannette chuckled. She was finally speechless.
Go on, I said.
"Girls," she said.
Not specific enough, I replied. I glanced at her chest. Jeannette wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but she wasn't stupid. She knew about her tits. She knew about her body. She knew enough to buy v-neck tshirts that fit just right and accentuate cleavage. She was not about hiding them. So she was just playing dumb here.
"Well, with some guys it's boobs."
Winner winner, chicken dinner.
She laughed and let out an exhale that almost sounded like she was relieved. It was strange in a way, but she almost seemed to relax. She shook her head laughing and muttered, "Oh you're one of those."
I am.
After brief pause when another co-worker came by to make small talk, I pushed the conversation to continue as we finished our shift.
So, I asked as we sat in the break room, think I can guess how big?
She grinned. Her eyes brightened and her cheeks flushed with red.
"Are you serious?"
I'm pretty good at it.
She just stared back at me. I looked right at them, smashed into what was probably a soft comfort bra (no underwires, no lace) under her v-neck Old Navy t-shirt. The "O" in Old and the "vy" and Navy stretched around the sides of each tit.
38DD, I said.
She crossed her arms in front of her, suddenly looking awkward.
I'm right, aren't I.
Jeanette is blonde with fair skin. It's impossible for her to hide a blush, even after years of living in Florida. She was red-faced and biting her lip.
"You're a cocky one, aren't you?" she then said.
As we left to go to our cars in the parking lot, I leaned to her ear and said, "I just know life's too short to waste it worrying about the news and the weather. So if you want to enjoy life, let me know. I can help."
That night, I saw her online. Facebook, of course. I sent her a message.
"What has Megan Kelly said today?"
She sent back an LOL.
Then she typed. "Shouldn't you be looking at boobs or something?"
I replied, "I thought you'd never ask. I'll be right over."
She quickly typed, "I DIDN'T MEAN ME!"
I replied, "I did." with a evil grin emoji.
She typed, "You're so bad. Horny little devil."
I replied, "You wouldn't want me any other way."
After a pause, a smiling emoji appeared.
I knew it was a matter of time.....
(to be continued)
7年前
