We Love Older Men?

As of recent, I've moved across the United States back to my roots in my lovely state of Missippi.  I've been hitting the beach every day for about three weeks now because (until recently, yay!) I have been jobless.  Here is just one of the incidents that has come my way involving the mighty male.

As some of you are not aware, men are bold in the south in many more ways than just one.  Some are brave, some will show off, and some will just downright tell you that you have a nice rack.  In this case, are brave enough to question you of all your life details without even knowing your name...


I'd been laying on the beach for a while and the sand had become very hot in the early noon so I decided to finally go out for a swim.  There were quite a few people at the main beach, though not as many as the week to follow with the temperature getting into the high nineties.  I was still on my way out into the water and only about waist deep when I saw him from the corner of my eye.

He was.. . older looking. Forties? Scruffy hair. A bigger guy. Friendly looking enough? Oh boy.

Ladies that have had this happen, you know what sixth sense I'm talking about - you can feel them not only looking at you, but searching for a way to approach you; searching for the right way to strike up the conversation.

"Doesn't get too deep out here does it."
Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner. Great conversation starter!
"No." What the hell else can you say?
"How far can you go out before it gets deep enough to swim in?" He asked.
There you go buddy, open ended questions.
"You can keep walkin out to the end of the pier before it gets deep."

The Pascagoula Beach Pier stretches out quite a ways. Don't ask me in feet, I'm blind in one eye and that somehow means I suck hard at telling distance.

"Oh wow," Oh no, here it comes ladies. Brace yourselves.. .
"Where's your husband at?" He asks.

I just shat a brick. There it is, floating off in the Gulf.
"Ha oh, what?" Dude took me by surprise! Seriously, I understand a bold move, but when you ask directly where my muscle is, it's not exactly comforting.

"Well," He starts, still not phased of my reaction to his question," I saw you go by and I thought that you were so beautiful. I thought you must have a husband at least."

"No not a husband," I replied, composing a nice poker face,"a boyfriend."
"Oh okay. How old are you?" He asked. Tits, with the quesitons again.
"Twenty-one."
"Oh, okay I'm probably too old for you anyway." I see that.
I just stare at him for a moment as he stares at me, waiting for some sort or reply.
"Thirty-eight." He says. I just shrug and smile, playing off it's not that big of a deal.
I think I'm way to nice to ever let someone down hard. Hell, he had the guts to talk to me, why not have the courtesy to be a lady in return?

"Where are you from?" He asked, again trying desperately to keep me talking.
"From here." I replied.
"Oh, you have an accent I've never heard before."
"Oh," Shit that's right. I sound southern to the North, and northern to the South.
"I just moved back from Montana. Too cold for my liking." I said, still smiling.
"That's nice. Lots of snow huh?" Yeah buddy. "Well that is a beautiful accent. And you're a very beautiful lady." Putting the stopper on....
"I just saw you go by," he restated, "and thought you might want to go on a date. Guess I'm too old for you." Lord, stop repeating yourself. It's alright darlin, Lord help you, it's alright.

"Well thank you. I should be heading back now." Noticing I've been standing in the waist-deep water long enough.
"Okay, I'm just going to the end of the pier to see where the beach finally drops off." He said, looking at me for some kind of company. I just don't want to.
"Have a nice day!" I headed toward shore.

Now ladies, this has happened to some of you before as well.  You're going away, he's going the opposite way, and all of a sudden you can't help but feel he's coming your way. Note, he's coming your way because he needed to go the same way, but wanted to stop the awkward before it got deeper.

I'll have you know, I get out of the water, glace back, and there he is about twenty feet behind me. I meander off to my towel that's on the other side of the pier and away from the main beach.  I noticed him leave and felt a slight relief. Mean? No. Sometimes it's just nice to kick back in your own awkward silence instead of trying to fill someone else's.

What did we learn today? Let 'em down easy. More importantly, just say you have a husband in the first place.

From Montana To Mississippi

Holy cow, been a while since I've been able to post. I have very limited computer access, so bear with me.  I will now tell details of my trip, with youtube videos to come so be watching for those!


Day 1(Sunday)- Who leaves on a Sunday you ask? Well, when you're Queer has only one day off a week from the job he has, you take that day to say your goodbyes. So yeah, I left on a Sunday.  Big mistake on my part. . . because when my car's engine light went on, you quickly find that there is no where open that can help you. . . plus also your Queer doesn't show up at ten in the mornin like he says he will. Oh no. You are stranded to roam the Montana city until a couple of Germans invite you to play mini golf and meet up with your queer later at the mall at about five in the evening for him to yell at you.  Delicious. Man I miss him.

Day 2(Monday)- At seven in the morning, I find out that my car needs fixin. . . about a $1,000 fix. Use the money I've saved to do my cross-country roadtrip? I think NOT! After bawling like a little baby betch, I find I can make payments. SCORE! Oh the car will be done by noon? Sure thing skipper.

So at about five that evening, my car is finished and I START my roadtrip. Blasphemous I say. First stop- South Dakota. From prior experiences to travelling to this state, I was a bit scared I was going to run into what me and the Asian like to call "The Derps". Drive,drive, drive, drive, drive, and I decided I can't have my eyes stay open any longer. Where was I staying the night? Where all the cool kids stay- at the trucker stop. I got my bros, that's all I need. My mother insisted I find a hotel. Where's the adventure in that? I wake with the sun, only having 4 hours of sleep, and keep driving.  My destination was only 3 more hours away. 

I didn't think my host (we'll refer to him as Anarchist) would be at home so I pissed around.  Finding little towns to terrorize, etc etc. Finally I got bored waiting for him to be on lunch break and went to the address I was given. Walked in and heard someone upstairs. "Hello?" I called up.
"I think he's in his room." A voice called down.
"THIBODEAUX!!!" I hear.
I ran up to see my greeter, bursting into his room.  The times of fun had begun.  Stayed at his place the night, met the roommates, the dog, up the next morning, and on to adventure.

Day 3(Tuesday)- This was a day of the long haul.  I stopped once to eat and stopping for gas when needed.  Everything was changing toward the end of the day. The air was becoming heavy, the sun was pounding. . .that day, I got news from the North that there was snow. PAH! Man that sucks. . .anywho, I get as far as Tennessee, a little hotel right outside Memphis. 

THIS was the defining moment of my trip.  THIS was when I knew I was no longer in a foreign place such as the north anymore. "Well hey darlin, what can I do for you?"
The exchange continued, I wanted a room, ID, get the key blah blah. . . but AFTER the fact she just sold me a room, this conversation took place. ..

"You can park around back if you like, closer to your room. Or you can park right in front of the office tonight and I'll watch your car. You know, we had three cars broken into last night? But I think that's because the owners of the cars made someone mad." She spoke with a matter-of-fact smile.

"Is that right?" I asked, not weary now. Hell, driving all day, I decided I could sleep in another truck stop. Have Big Boy Billy bring out his banjo and all the other good ol' boys so we can have ourselves a campfire oh the hood of their semi so they can all lul me to sleep. ..

"Mmhmm. You hear anything funny tonight honey, you just call me. I mean it. Call me for anything. If you miss your momma, call me and I'll be your momma for the night. Call me to chat. To feel safe. I'm here for you, ya hear me?"

Oh yeah, she was serious. "Yes, ma'am." I smiled and moved my car in the front of the office, walked up to the second floor and went to bed.

Day 4 (Wednesday)- Got up and went down for some breakfast. In the little dining area, weren't but me and two other gals plus the front desk clerk.  "You want some sausage honey? I can cook some up." She asked.
"No ma'am, some toast and jelly will do me fine."
The ladies were eyeing me from their table. I looked and smiled, asked about their morning.
"Oh we're havin a good one, baby." The bigger of the two responded. "We was just lookin at your dress, wasn't we?" Asking the other gal sitting with her. "Mmhmm that is a real pretty colour on you."

Just a red dress. A red dress that looked like it came from Jamaica and one you can't bend over in. "Thank you ladies. Where you headed?"
" Oh we're vacationing in Memphis. Just cheaper to get a hotel on the outskirts of town. Where you headed, baby?"
"Mississippi."
The started laughing with disgusted looks. "Ain't they got possums and some nasty things down there?"
"Haha, yes ma'am. Crocs, roaches, armadillos."
"Mmhmm, we saw an armadillo. Ran it over. Those things can take out your car you know? A natural armour, they have. Mmhmm. Well you take care baby and have a good one!"

That I did have. I got to Pascagoula in no time. Rolled up to Mema's place and everything had looked as it was when I was last there.

More adventures to come, so stay tuned. I saw that I get viewers from all over the world about my blog. AWESOME! Spread my stories, and maybe one day you'll see yourself in them :) Have a good one!

I Wish You Were Here

I thought my breaking point was the fireworks thrown at me.
I thought my breaking point was the alcohol spilled on me.
I thought my breaking point was the asshole trying to ruin my day.
I thought my breaking point was the person I want to talk to being a million miles away.
I thought my breaking point was the countless bitching to my face when all I did was smile and wait patiently.


None of these were my breaking points. 

My breaking point was a man who told me he could fix my car.
My breaking point was a man who spoke kind and soft words to me.
My breaking point was a man who put something positive in my day.

So now I sit here breaking down, saying a prayer for that kind man.
May he have a blessed week and a much better time than I have had.

Why Bismarck? Pt. I -Police

So, instead of an epic roadtrip like I'd planned for my spring break, my car took a shit on me a couple days before I intended on leaving.  I stayed in a resident hall for the most part, but along came the Asian's weekend- the Monday and Tuesday.  He decided we'd take an adventure of our own.  This is our story. (It will probably be sectioned off into a few different blogs, watch for them.)

He knocked on my window at about 11:00 am. I let him in the side door and he asked if I was still up for leaving.  "Well, you decide?" We'd passively talked about going to Salt Lake, Canada, Boise, Seattle.. whatever.  Just not really taken the time to think about these things. Rarely are these things thought out.  "I don't want to be driving for the majority of my weekend." He tells me.  "Well. Bismarck is only 7 hours away."  We trolled the tourist page of the city.  Sounded legit.  Water park, zoo, arts gallery, why not?

We set off on our adventure about.. noon-thirty or so. He had me drive. I was thinkin he'd sleep because he just got off work. No big.  I can drive stick.... as long as there's no intimidating Asian glare in the passenger seat watching my every move. Oh wait, there was, that's right... little asshole. So we're off. Not much to tell, had some 4B's soup in Miles City, blah blah blah *FASTFORWARD*

So I have a speeding problem. Big whoop.  Who doesn't these days, eh?  So it was gettin dark and we were maybe 45 minutes from our destination.  Usually I slow down when it gets dark because i can't see the po po when they're out.  We get to talkin- because the Asian never slept- and I'm gettin all hyped about the music we're talkin about when all of a sudden I see berries and cherries coming in the opposite direction.  I look down and my speedometer  and I'm going 95... in a 75. Whoopsie. hehe. So the cop crosses the gaping median - okay lemme paint this for you-

The median is about 3 lanes wide itself.  the median is grass and it dips really big in the middle. Had I not slowed my roll and pulled over like a good law-abiding citizen (irony) i probably could have gotten away.  This po po took a good nose dive into the damn median.  Kinda funny to watch.  But here comes the real gold of the story....

The officer walks up, I'm mercilessly apologizing to the Asian already for this. You see, his insurance card is about 4 months expired at this point and hasn't gotten around to getting it updated.  The po po does the routine, license, insurance, registration. "Miss do you know why I pulled you over?" 
Here it comes ladies and gentlemen, the Gingy people rarely get to witness.
"I believe I was speeding sir."
"I clocked you at 95."
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I'm not used to this car, no cruise control and all, oh my!Wow!So sorry!"
"Ma'am, can you come back to my car with me?"
I look at Asian confused, this never happens.  "Uh, sure." I step out of the car and follow him to his cop car. "Does this usually happen in North Dakota? Getting in the cop car?"
He chuckles a little, " I just don't want to get hit tonight standing out there is all."
We get in the car, I'm a little soothed that I'm not going to the big house. 
"Where you headed?"
"Bismark. For a vacation."
"In Bismarck?" He chuckles," Why there?"
Before I knew it I was tellin him all kinds of things and he was asking more questions. Even told him how Asian and I met, what I was going to school for and my plans of heading to Mississippi in May.  This man was just eating it up.  People, you must understand, no one and I mean NO one can refuse southern charm.  Silly things like when he asked what I was in college for and my replies.
"Mathematics right now."
"Who goes to school for that?" He smiles.
"Guess I'm just good with numbers. Clearly not the ones on the road." I chuckle back.  He laughs it up.
"Well, I don't know how they do it in Montana and Wyoming, but we have a point system here. I only marked you were going 90 so you don't have as many points racked up and have your license taken away." 
"Well that's so sweet of you!"
"But I do have to give you a ticket. I'll even give you an envelope so you can mail the money within the next two weeks."
"Thank you sir." A little wink. 

I walk back to the car, finishing up my charming with a quick smile and flick of the hair. I look at the ticket and burst out laughing.  I get in the car, happy as a clam.
"What's the damage?" Asian asks.
"Hehe. Guess. Just guess!"
"Well, somethin like THAT would have put me at a $250 ticket and a night in jail!"
"Hehehehehe try $75."
"WHAT? WHAT?!NO!THAT'S SO BULLSHIT!"
"Hehee no one can resist.."
"Seriously. That's not even fair. I'm mad at you right now!"
I giggle a little more and this conversation goes back and forth for a while. 

We ride up into Bismarck a little later and that fun begins in Part II.

Again, One Smile Calms All

This last week has been hectic for me. 

With a whopping 20 page paper on the mind, artworks to submit to have a chance to be published, and other miscelaneous papers and homework on top of figuring out what the hell is going on with the financial aid office, I think I might have reached a near-cracking point.
I had a few mental breakdowns in a day - of which I even had my mother call me to calm me down.  Those that know me this never happens.  If anything I avoid conversation with the family as not to blow up. 

After work on Friday, I scrambled to get all of my art together to take to a guy who was the photographer for the magazine I was entering in.  Then the submissions go to a panel and they decide what works are awesome enough to get in and which ones aren't.  As I enter the room where submissions are being photographed,  I see there's only two guys in there- the photo guy and just another dude finishing up handing in his submissions.  I breathe a little, knowing I'll be next and not stressing about the deadline which was two hours from where I was standing. 

They seemed pretty chill, just comments about their art and such. The photographer looks at me, "Hey Thibodeaux." Always going somewhere that I'm a familiar face.  It's actually quite nice.  "Hi." I try to force a quick smile.  "Brought your stuff for me to take pictures of?"
"Mmhmm."
"Almost done with this guy, then you're next."
"Do you have any submission forms?"
He looks around, "No, but if I tell you where they are, you wanna bring me a stack?"
"Sure thing!" I was a little excited, wanting to make this official.
After his specific instructions, I hurridly made way to the next building over to talk to some of the panel to get some submission forms.  When I got back, he was finishing photos for the last metal sculpture of the guy who was in front of me.  Patiently I waited, filling out all submission forms, one for each artwork. 
"Alright man, that's it," I heard him say.
"Thanks again for doing this!" The metal sculptist began taking all of his artwork from the room.
"You ready?" The photographer asked. 
"I have some necklaces I made. Glass beads on one and buttons for another."
"Necklaces. Cool! Yeah, bring them over."  He began positioning them in an eye-pleasing sort of way.
"Position them how you'd like them." He told me.
"You're also an artist, do as you please."
He chuckled at me, "Don't tell me that..." and proceeded to take pictures.
"You almost out of here?" I asked, refering to graduation in May.
"Yeah, I've been here too long. Been here three years and I still don't know what I'm doing."
Woah, sounded like me.  Cept he seemed pretty chill about the whole situation.
"Ha, I've been here three years too and will also be graduating this May.  No idea what will come next. I know I'll be going back to Mississippi but that's about it."  He switched necklaces to take pictures.
"Mississippi, eh? I'll be heading to Colorado.  I think I'm just gonna go with the flow, take a year off and see where we go from there."

That made my day.  Finally, someone else that doesn't know what they're doing, doesn't know where the wind will take them, but he just seemed so damn OKAY about it.  I used to be like that.  I have no idea why I let all of this build up and get to me.  Who cares if I didn't get accepted into the Boston program? Who cares that I'm getting some associates I have no idea what I will do with? Who cares if all I know is that I'm going to Sippy and takin my Asian with me?  I'm not dying and I'm not terribly off.  We had a few more little short chats and later on some giggles about my Penis painting that I did. 
I was relieved all over again that I didn't have to explain to him the meaning behind it because he himself was an artist too. 

Moral? No one knows what's going on.  Everyone just has different ways of looking at the unknown.

Hot Men in Montana

Okay, So I used to work at a classy establishment.  Probably in the top few bests in the small town I lived in for a while in Montana.  I worked there for 2 years or so,  calling Keno games and after a while, waitressing. 

I worked with some awesome ladies that were about as shy as I was- not at all.  To keep the story straight between ladies, they were Nick, Charles, and Jules. (Because you know by now I don't use real names in my blogs.) Nick was a tiny little gal, 5 years my senior, and sweet as peaches. Don't let her fool you, you do NOT mess with her.  She keeps her man and all her ducks in a row, not a force to recon with.  Then there was Charles, a feisty gal who kept you on your toes and had your classic 'wise-guy' attitude with the senior gentlemen.  They got a real kick outta her.  Then there was Jules- the third comedian who liked to check out 'hot men' with me. 

Well, naturally, as all waitresses will, we would talk about our customers as they left.  " I liked them! They left a nice tip!" or, "Did you see him? Psh, check me out as I walk away, yeah I'll give you somethin to look at buddy!" and the list goes on.  Our favourites were when older couples came in, dressed their Sunday bests for an evening out.  Always the cutest to see a couple that has lasted that long, you know. . . until you found out they were brother and sister, not married.

Much much more than the elderly couples, however, were the 'hot men'.  Asses hangin outta the pants like mad plumber's crack,  bellies spilling over like crazy with NO tee to tuck it in or overalls to hold it up, and the craziest hats/facial hair/ expressions you've ever seen.  Sometimes there needed be no words from staff to staff but a subtle look from one to the other across the restaurant and a slight smile or hint of the eyes.  All waitresses out there know what I'm talking about.  Sometimes, after they'd left, we'd whisper at my Keno table for giggle's sake, "Did you see the mouth on that one?! Like he was coming at me to take a bite!"

But the particular incident disclosed here today is the one that goes in our memory banks as the sight of the history. 

I believe it was a day during the week; was a Wednesday or Thursday because of how slow it was.  It was during the summer- I remember the stuffiness of the place and us all wishing and hoping we didn't have to work because the sun was shining and we knew the lake would be divine.  There were only a couple tables in the whole restaurant and I was cleaning my Keno counter when all of a sudden Jules jumps over to me,  "Come quick! Come quick! There's a hottie outside! SERIOUSLY you're going to miss him!"  Without another moment's notice, I spring from behind my counter and speed-walk to where she is leading me.  "THERE! On the corner! I saw him pass our window and I had to show you!"

I look on the corner and immediately got the attack of laughter that had to be hushed in the establishment.  Ever notice how things are always funniest when you have to keep quiet?  Out on the sidewalk,  waiting at the stoplight (our workplace, on the corner)  was an older looking lanky fella with no shirt, hand high on one hip, newspaper in the other, squinting into the sun with, in contrast to his lanky arms and legs, a beer-belly that seeped over his -and get this- cut-off short shorts.  We just about died that day.  I will never get this image out of my head. 

As you can tell, the 'hot men' we were interested in lookin for were the ones you find on, oh, say... People of Walmart. You know the site and it's never pretty. 

Whoever you were, if you have a computer, or ever look at things on the internet, this story was for you and just know that you made our day.

The Asian

Well, we've been dating for a while now, and I decided it's finally time for an Asian story. He cracks me up... not because he means to. Really.  He's just Asian... as he possibly can be, all Americanized and such. Whatever. On to the story.

Pretty much when I get to see the Asian is on his weekends; Mondays and Tuesdays.  Usually all that consists of is watching movies, playing video games on rare occasion, watching youtube... you know. Hangin out and stuff.  Until the Asian is unleashed in public... now THAT is some funny shit. 

So this past particular Tuesday,  we went out for a walk.  I like my sunlight and get cabin fever easily, he hisses at it.  You can only imagine how long these walks do not last.  We're walkin to the bank to deposit money which is just halfway across town from the college, no big.  Wind is mild- rare for Wyoming- and little Asian bastard is running us into traffic, kicking in windshields, you know, what other Asians do on their free time.

It's a joke, you can laugh now.

We're coming close to the bank, about a block away and there's a HUGE mailbox. "You can fit packages in that mailbox!" He said.  " I know!"  Because, dude. It was true. This was an OVERLY over-sized mailbox. (Remember this mailbox here in a minute) We walk into the bank.

As I'm waiting for a teller, he goes to sit on one of the big comfy couches at said bank.  I watch him sit, and proceed to talk to himself and/or the couch... it went something a little like this.

"What is that in my back?" Looks behind him.
"Oh, wow that's a cushion! That's a nice cushion."  Fluffs the cushion.
"Very nice." Looks at it thoughtfully, then slams his back very hard on it.
"Hm." He raises his eyebrows with satisfaction. 

I burst out laughing and that was when I realized I'm dating the guy that turns into the old guy that comments on everything in the store.  You know?  That guy that everyone thinks is a creeper because he's really nice and fraternizes with the lawn and gardening section?  THAT guy. 

I told him I was watching him, and what a creeper he was.  He just smiled.  Then proceeded to tell me about how he wants to make this giant mailbox (we're walking past it again) but with some modifications.  He wants to be an old guy with a giant mailbox that has the opening like a bear trap.  Then the mailman can set the mail on what he thinks is the trigger to this bear trap but be relieved to find out that it's not really going to chop his arm off. 

Then keeps going on with his futuristic story menacingly about how it would actually be a bear trap so no one would steal his mail. "No one wants to steal your mail, paranoid!" I jokingly spat at him.  "It's a felony, you know! What if some kids, as a joke, tried to take my mail?"  He laughed to himself, "It'd be funny. The next day you'd see some five year old dangling from my mailbox.  That'll teach him."  He chuckles to himself.  I laugh hysterically.  Who the fuck says that shit?


SO that's just one of many stories of the Asian.  Many more to come. Happy reading, everyone!