Monday Already?

My husband and I are sitting at a bar when a semi attractive woman with long dark hair stands between us.  She caresses my husbands face with both hands and gives him a long, wet, kiss on the lips.

She is wearing bright red lipstick.

He is wearing a doctors coat with his name embroidered on it.

It compliments my nurses outfit.

Neither of us are in the medical profession.

He barely blinks.  Just stares straight ahead and takes a long sip of his drink.

I'm so mad at him right now.  

I don't care if this is a dream.

The image of the woman is hauntingly familiar.  Four hours later I finally figured out who she is.

Early in the summer Mark attended race car driving school.

The woman at the bar is the same woman that showed up at the track wearing a black bikini.

Who wears a bikini to a race car track?

She aligns herself so that the first thing he sees as he exits his car is NOT ME!!!

Somehow,  he manages to avoid her all together.  

As if he knew my zoom ...

was pointed right at him.

That smile is for me.

I, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed focusing in on her flaws. 

I can't always tell the difference between dreams and reality.  This was the case in a post titled

DREAM ON

(if you're not going to read it, at least click on it to see how many comments I got)

WAIT..... before you do, here is a joke courtesy of Sandy Lawson Mahle:


A woman went up to the bar in a quiet rural pub... She gestured alluringly to the bartender who approached her immediately. She seductively signaled that he should bring his face closer to hers. As he did, she gently caressed his full beard. "Are you the manager?" she asked, softly stroking his face with both hands.

"Actually, no," he replied.

"Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him," she said, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.
"I'm afraid I can't," breathed the bartender. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes. I need for you to give him a message," she continued, running her forefinger across the bartender's lip and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.

"What should I tell him?" the bartender managed to say.
"Tell him," she whispered, "There's no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room." 

***