Dita Parker

Monday, February 7, 2011

Poindexters and space cadets, improvisers and men on a mission

May I have the attention of the class, please. Today's lesson: The importance of perfect timing.

So. Nature calls in the middle of your walk home from wherever you happened to be at such an unnatural hour. Do not, I repeat, do not make your presence known before the utterly unsuspecting woman you had never laid eyes on in your life prior to the moment you had to take a whiz in the wild is long gone.

For the love of all that is holy, do not jump right in front of her, even if you are all done, even if it is a hundred below and you and yours are both freezing, even if your intentions are good. She might not care. She might be inclined to take your head off, just to be on the safe side, and, let's face it, gentlemen, jumping from the bushes, headed straight at her, displays truly appalling judgment on your part, the time and your timing considered.

Your back in a bush is far preferable to your face in hers, trust me. Since that is no place or time for small talk, big words, asking for her number, a cigarette, or the time, only one thing left for you to do, really, i.e. nothing. Do. Not. Move. Should she detect you, she'll have time to decide between fight and flight, time to make sure the coast is and remains clear. Present a clear and present danger and run the risk of a can of unforeseen consequences to be opened on your person.

Do we have an understanding? I said, do we have an understanding? Excellent. Class dismissed. Behave.

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