Posted by: foodtalker | July 21, 2010

time’s up

Does being a sex kitten have a sell by date?  How old do girls have to be to stop doing the pouty pootie stuff or else risk ridicule?  This is something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately as I careen haphazardly towards sixty and single.  Either of these conditions is shocking, but the combination is doubly alarming.  Not that I’ve ever really been a sex kitten, it’s just that if I’d like to be one, I might be running out of time.  It might be one of those things where there’s a right time, a wrong time and a passed time with no overdue notice.   Like climbing Mt. Everest.  Something else it might be too late for me to try – come to think of it.  These days I’m just glad to reach the top of the hill.

Some women seem to have an innate inclination towards this behaviour.  They know how to purr and rub on you, how to tilt their hips provocateur and throw a teasing look. About the only thing I’ve ever learned to tease was my hair – ages ago.   In fact there are women who are so ingrained in these moves that they don’t discriminate their audience.  I’ve been engaged in conversations with them and suddenly realized with horror that I’m getting the fluttered eyelashes, the coy glance, the body thrust.  They seem unable to help themselves, poor helpless felines, they’re habitual users.

But where do they learn this stuff?  From their moms?  Somebody’s role modeling for them, and I guess for the most part it must produce results else they’d surely cease their coquettish antics.  Maybe there is an academy for young ladies to train in the art of seduction.  Somewhere that teaches you to be comfortable with cleavage, how to run your finger across moistened lips, to cross and uncross your legs in languorous fashion, to subtly ooze gallons of pheromones and effortlessly emit the come hither invitation without lifting a hand.  I’d be such a klutz.  Unfortunately I think it’s probably more in my nature to hiss and scratch than purr and stroke.

I asked my friend Lucy who can be depended on for insight, if she thought there was an expiration date.  “When you go from being a sex kitten to a ratty old cat?”  she asked, being a little more colloquial and vulgar in her rhetorical question than I’ve written.  Her reply was straightforward.  “The expiration date is when the target audience stops paying attention.  Or gives you the kind of attention you don’t want”, then after a moment of musing added, “but if you can make an old man feel young, he’ll probably dig your pouty pootie anyway.”

So maybe the secret to finding a man is to extend your range and lower your standards, and the secret to life is good lighting.  Just keep working the dimmer switch the older you get until you’re a nocturnal operator.  This technique could also help to extend sex kitten hood, come to think of it.  But, whatever the answer, one thing I am sure about; booty is always in the eye of the beholder.

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Responses

  1. Your theme is an interesting one to me. I had this neighbor girl when she was like five years old would do somersaults in front of me as I passed in my car. They were timed, I could tell. At ten, she would ride her bicycle behind me as I did my daily walk and make noises so I would turn and look at her, then smile and fly away. At thirteen, she would wait till I would go to work and come out with her bathing suit on, wait till I was about to pass, then turn and do her best Marilyn Monroe imitation. She messed up when she was sixteen and had her prom dress on and was waiting for me to come down the hill in my car so she could show off, but it was my wife instead. My wife said she had never seen a girl in a prom dress move so fast. My wife has not been jealous of her since she knows I’m a safe husband. They’ve moved away now, lost their house in the mortgage meltdown, but she was interesting. She started what you talk about at five. Unbelievable.

  2. Or as Blanche from the Golden Girls tv Show says “always have sex on your back because gravity is not your friend!” She went on to demonstrate by looking down into a mirror. Sad, really sad!

  3. Hilarious!
    prrrrrr


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