I met a man today. A real man,ladies,not these fops who perpetuate and pontificate of a manliness they do not understand behind thin facades of idiocy; no. A MAN.

This man…had a look in his eye that told me he knew exactly what he wanted to do to me,when,and how. He had it timed to the very last innuendo-filled phrase. His handshake was polite,perfunctory. His manner,cordial,engaging. But his tongue; it moved like a machine of liquid mercury searing through my rapidly penetrated defenses.

I observed him coolly, trying, for once, to obey societal norms, keeping the overrated mystery alive. I told him I liked his tie. He blushed,suddenly,surprisingly. I made him blush? The Chocolate Factory was thus further endeared to Willy Wonka by this innocent expression of modesty. It was like Adonis – nay,Eros – being bashful. Cute.

And his name! I had a vision of a Mandingo manly man in a loincloth,claiming his territory (think Djimon Honsou in that Calvin Klein ad. Mmmm.). Hopefully,that territory would be me.

I asked him where he came from. He told me he came from a little village where men were men and women liked them that way. (That explained much of his manner…) He told me of his heritage,and I wanted to carry his children. (ok,maybe at least talk about it)

He flirted shamelessly,tastefully. He made me laugh,then made me shiver. My niece,who introduced us,mentioned that I had participated in Vagina Monologues. He said, Why have an event to talk about it? Why not just give it up? We can have a dialogue. Nothing I hadn’t heard before,but of course,different because it was him.

I stared deeply into his eyes and saw seduction from the quintessential rake. Promises of steamy,poetry-filled nights. Chivalry. Heat. Charm. Colours. Darkness. Depth. Then I stared at the middle finger on his left hand and saw a ring.

tSN