Inappropriate crushesAs a teenager I was obsessed by my piano teacher - I hated playing the piano, but carried on because she was so lovely. OK, it was because she used to wear very plunging necklines.
I even stopped practicing because the worse I was, the more she'd sit at the piano to show me how to play a piece and I could stand behind her and look down her top.
Aaaaargh. Confess your own crushes so I don't look like a breast-obssessed stalker.
(
chthonic, Thu 28 Sep 2006, 10:42)
« Back
Wake up callFor reasons that don't need going into, the whole teenage crush thing kinda passed me by - until this year. My hormones were largely confused and then sleeping cosily til I hit thirty, and then hell, did they wake up. No man is safe from my searing (and, I'm convinced, wildly obvious) gaze, and believe me, where I live and work, very few are what I'd call 'appropriate' targets for ill directed lust.
Today's specials include (but are not limited to, oh no) a colleague who likes to wear his trousers tucked juuust under his nipples, a builder who I kid myself looks like Dave Grohl and a neighbours son who may (please god) be sixteen... Yesterday's included a fifty something businessman with Chanel glasses, and a bin man. These men all reduce me to a stumbling, gibbering wreck, who accidentally slams drawers on her own hands, falls over her own feet (I mean, they're where they always are, on the end of my legs - how can I not know?) and sets fire to her own clothes while nervously fiddling with lighters. Please, someone, help me...
And the damndest thing? It's all accompanied by a complete lack of an available outlet for my growing frustrations... So I'm a single hormonal teenager, who just happens to be thirty. Ballcocks.
(, Thu 28 Sep 2006, 15:23, closed)
« Back