The Dateable Dork

Remember a few months ago when I had a fantastically torrid and completely imaginary affair with the Subway Adonis?  Well, lately I’m finding a Subway Adonis in every car of every subway that I happen to find myself on, and suffice it to say, there’s an adonis everywhere I look.  Oh, the humanity!  Men of New York, why must you torture me so?  The absolute worst is in the morning when the concentration of adoni (?) is at its peak.  You know what I’m talking about here – the men are fresh out of the shower, hair still a little wet, clean-shaven, cologne freshly applied, suit perfectly pressed, shoes shiny, all clean and fresh and ready to go.  Ohhhhh, how adorable they are, just standing there with their iPod headphones in their ears and a copy of the Wall Street Journal, probably on their way to some hedge fund where they make more than triple my salary.  But oh, the crispness of their shirt collars, the last remnants of sleep in their eyes, that little spot on their necks that is just BEGGING to be licked.

Yes, that’s right, I have an absolutely uncontrollable desire to lick their necks.  Do not question my craziness, for it is deeply established and utterly inexplicable.  One must simply accept these things for what they are.  I am surrounded by these well-dressed, clean-shaven, 30-something men as I fly through the belly of the city, and while I should be focusing on the day ahead, all I can think about is the scrumptious taste of those soft, clean necks on my wet, hungry, man-deprived tongue.  God only knows what I would give for a sudden, sharp turn on the tracks that would involuntarily launch me toward one of the gorgeous adoni, my tongue outstretched for just a meager sampling of their delicious nectar. 

Boys, watch out for me tomorrow morning.  I don’t know how much longer I can restrain myself.  : )