Reap what you Sew

“So I made me a little garden. I plant me some Cucumber seed, and I’ll be damned if some Cucumbers don’t come up!  I plant me some Green Peppers in another corner, and I’ll be damned if some Green Peppers don’t come up there! Every Single Time!  What come up was EXACTLY what was on that little envelope!  When I look around my life, I’m guessin’ what I got is probably EXACTLY what I planted.  That’s the way it works!”

When I was younger my peers told me if I got lots of sex from lots of different women I’d feel complete.  Everyone would like me.  Maybe I’d even like myself.  I bought into it.

In The Day I would trade my honor, my word, my money — anything — for sex.  You told me that was the way to happiness.  No one ever told me: “If you are a ‘Man of Honor’ people will write songs about you and remember you unto their grandchildren!”.  You made movies about guys who got the girls.  Maybe they had honor, maybe they didn’t, but if they didn’t get the girl you didn’t make the movie.

I learned the lesson well.  Sometimes I acted with honor, sometimes I didn’t, but I always got the girl.

I remember sitting in Ha’ Penny Lion once with 2 friends.  A girl walked in, and one friend said: “Damn, she’s HOT!”  I said: “Yeah, I fucked her.” My other friend knew the girl.  He said: “You fucked HER!  She’s a Bitch!”.  “I said I fucked her.” I explained, “I didn’t say I talked to her!”.  We all had a good laugh about that.

I guess my motto was: “I don’t have to like everyone I have sex with”.

So one night twenty-some years later I was thinking about all the women I’d been with — and I’ll tell ya, I was feeling pretty manly — and I realized it had been a while since I’d spent any time with a woman.  I thought: “… why don’t I just call up a girl, have her come by… it doesn’t have to be anything big… watch a movie or grab dinner… Women just smell so much better than men!  It’d be nice to just hang out with a girl.”

I ran through a mental list of women I could call, and it didn’t take too long.  There weren’t ANY women on it.  I changed my parameters from “Super Hot Women I had slept with” to “Fairly Hot Women I Would Sleep With if they let me“, then dropped down to “Less Body Hair than me“.  I finally got to “Capable of Respiration Without Mechanical Assistance” and the answer was the same.

There were no women of any kind who would want to spend an evening with me under any circumstances.

Wow.  What the hell kind of Ladies’ Man does that make me?

I realized that by making sure I got something out of every encounter I’d had — not just with women but employers and friends — I had left a path of discontent behind me.

I got to thinking about what kind of man I would like to be.  Maybe by figuring out where I wanted to be, I could figure out the path I needed to walk.  That shouldn’t have felt like a great insight. That should have been common sense.

I decided I want to be the kind of man that women feel comfortable around, that they would like to be around.

What if there were a man who had a dozen women he could call on a night like I was having, and any of the dozen would think to themself: “I can’t think of a more enjoyable way to spend an evening than with ________.”.  Does a man like that exist?  Is that unrealistic?  Hell, maybe I’m so out of touch that everyone is like that except me.

I thought: “I would like to be that man!”.

Of course, most of my epiphanies — realizing the way I want to be — are not in and of themselves life changing.  My next thought was: “…and what if I got all 12 over at the same time!!!  That would ROCK!!!  One great big naked knot of writhing female flesh with me in the middle!!!!”.

…umm, Sorry…  I’ve got a long way to go.  The important thing is that I realized it.  First step, and all that…

Being 50 has certain advantages.  Not long ago I made several realizations.  One was that I’d probably had my worst ass-whipping.  I don’t know when or where it was, or who gave it to me, but now that I’m not a mouthy drunk making rude comments and hitting on other people’s girlfriend’s I don’t have as many people wanting to kick my ass.

Germane to this article is the realization that I’ve probably slept with the most beautiful woman I will ever sleep with.  Already.  It’s all downhill from here.  I’m freaking 50 years old.  22-year-old Supermodels whose tit’s defy gravity are not throwing themselves at me.  At the risk of offending women my age, let’s be honest: Nothing on a woman my age defies gravity.  I have a simple rule: If her breast is not in the second place I feel for it, I stop looking.  I just do.  Everyone has to have a standard, that’s mine.

I did know a woman my age who had fantastic nipples!  World-class!  I complimented them.  “Those used to be my knee-caps” she told me.

That’s WAAAAaaayy too much of a lift!

That being said, urgency is gone.  When it went, it took with it the need to degrade myself for sex.  I’m no longer willing to lie or sweet-talk or pretend to be something I’m not or pretend to feel some way that I don’t to get sex.  I may have been willing to do ANYTHING to sleep with the hottest babe ever, but would you really cheat your ass off for second or third place?  For the first time in my life I’m completely honest with women.  And for the first time in my life I’m finding that I’m someone that women want to be around.

Who knew?  Who knew that women appreciated honesty?  I sure as hell didn’t!

I can spend the final third of my life being exactly who the hell I am.  They don’t always repay my honesty with sex — hey, 50-year-old men have gravitational issues, too — but they repay it with friendship.

God is a fucked-up dude.  I don’t always understand him, and I can’t always think my way into His solution, but sometimes he lets me bumble and stumble into it.  I always wondered how I could make amends to girls like the one at Ha’ Penny Lion.  Now I know.  I can be a friend to women today.

I may never have a dozen women friends, and it’s not important.  Probably none of them will think: “I can’t think of a more enjoyable way to spend an evening than with JT”.  But when the women in my life need someone to be there for them, to be honest with them — and not want a damn thing from them — I can be that man.  It’s not important if any of them ever avail themselves of my friendship.  It’s enough that I am willing.

Today I don’t have to have sex with everyone I like. I have already become the Man I want to be.

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4 Responses to Reap what you Sew

  1. AsJimSeesIt says:

    Sometimes I get upset when I realize I’ve been “Friend Zoned”. I need to remember that for a woman to want to be friends with me, I must have made a lot of progress. I guess for me, the trick will be to remember this before I tell her to kiss my ass. Damn fear. Damn ego.

  2. I really really like this story…the reality of it…and the fact that since it is an older story, you have done what you said. I think you are a great friend. To me as well as a lot of other ladies…..Friends are the best thing in my life I think, well, besides my dog and my new life….:-)….My new friends!!!!

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