Beautiful women
My accountant is a woman with the face and body of a bulldog.
She does my and my now separated husband’s complicated tax return every year, and though impeccably honest and working by the book, she has managed a nice pay back for us each time.
In consideration of my separated husband’s difficult financial situation I’ve been filing a joint tax return these past two years. Otherwise I’d get all the payback while he would pay taxes on every scant dollar he earns. We’re still friends, aren’t we?
My accountant does not like men very much. She expresses her disapproval of the human male and all relationships with it in short terse barks.
- Let him pay, it’s none of your business. -
- If you want to take care of three children instead of two, that’s your decision. -
And clenches her teeth and makes a little growling sound in her throat.
Yet she is most tender-hearted when it comes to payment. She allows me time when I don’t have the money on the spot. And I can call her any time for advise, for free.
She lives with a woman, in what exact relationship I do not know, goes to church, and has two tiny yapping male dogs.
~
My new vet is a woman with the face and figure and gait of a camel.
The other day I got into an argument with her over spaying my cat.
I think that allowing a female mammal at least one pregnancy, birth and suckling of the young activates hormones which will work beneficial on her physical and emotional health.
My vet expounded on all the dangers of this process (for cats, that is). In unsparingly vivid language she described the painful diseases and consequent miserable deaths tom cats bring to female cats by mating with them.
Oh, those dirty, disease-ridden, horny, inconsiderate street toms who will travel for miles to impart their death seed to a female feline whose owner failed to spay her and so prevent her from going into heat. They can smell out a cat in heat from half the world away!
She went on quite a passionate little rant there, and I could not help but think she was not only talking about male cats, she was on a rampage against the males of any species, including the human. If I had been a man I would have looked for a place to hide.
I don’t know any of my vet’s personal circumstances, but I have a feeling that she is unmarried, childless, and she does not like men, poor beasts.
~
I like men, for various reasons.
One of them being that they’re different from me, and this creates a pleasant erotic tension. I also have children, who are, as a rule, obtained by having sexual intercourse with men. I like having children. I like sexual intercourse with men.
~
I also like both these women. They are among the most radical non-conformists I know.
In the face of their, perhaps neurotic, perhaps heroic oppinionatedness my slightly bohemian and artistic life seems pale compared to the realism they exude.
Neither of them pretty or by choice or circumstance inclined to conventional womanhood, they must have wrestled with a hostile environment to assert their place in life.
I find this kind of courage utterly feminine.
I’m drawn to it as to an extreme of sameness that is quite as heady as the erotic tension between my female self and the male other.
Ultimately, my response to them is emotional, not intellectual. I experience these women as beautiful in the wholeness of their being. In their company I feel free and easy and refreshed.
Maybe I am the child they never had. Maybe they are the extremist woman I never dared to be. Maybe I feel with them as with someone whom I could quarrel with and don’t do any damage.
We would get so angry in our argument, and then, at a certain point, just start laughing, and laughing and laughing our heads off.
She does my and my now separated husband’s complicated tax return every year, and though impeccably honest and working by the book, she has managed a nice pay back for us each time.
In consideration of my separated husband’s difficult financial situation I’ve been filing a joint tax return these past two years. Otherwise I’d get all the payback while he would pay taxes on every scant dollar he earns. We’re still friends, aren’t we?
My accountant does not like men very much. She expresses her disapproval of the human male and all relationships with it in short terse barks.
- Let him pay, it’s none of your business. -
- If you want to take care of three children instead of two, that’s your decision. -
And clenches her teeth and makes a little growling sound in her throat.
Yet she is most tender-hearted when it comes to payment. She allows me time when I don’t have the money on the spot. And I can call her any time for advise, for free.
She lives with a woman, in what exact relationship I do not know, goes to church, and has two tiny yapping male dogs.
~
My new vet is a woman with the face and figure and gait of a camel.
The other day I got into an argument with her over spaying my cat.
I think that allowing a female mammal at least one pregnancy, birth and suckling of the young activates hormones which will work beneficial on her physical and emotional health.
My vet expounded on all the dangers of this process (for cats, that is). In unsparingly vivid language she described the painful diseases and consequent miserable deaths tom cats bring to female cats by mating with them.
Oh, those dirty, disease-ridden, horny, inconsiderate street toms who will travel for miles to impart their death seed to a female feline whose owner failed to spay her and so prevent her from going into heat. They can smell out a cat in heat from half the world away!
She went on quite a passionate little rant there, and I could not help but think she was not only talking about male cats, she was on a rampage against the males of any species, including the human. If I had been a man I would have looked for a place to hide.
I don’t know any of my vet’s personal circumstances, but I have a feeling that she is unmarried, childless, and she does not like men, poor beasts.
~
I like men, for various reasons.
One of them being that they’re different from me, and this creates a pleasant erotic tension. I also have children, who are, as a rule, obtained by having sexual intercourse with men. I like having children. I like sexual intercourse with men.
~
I also like both these women. They are among the most radical non-conformists I know.
In the face of their, perhaps neurotic, perhaps heroic oppinionatedness my slightly bohemian and artistic life seems pale compared to the realism they exude.
Neither of them pretty or by choice or circumstance inclined to conventional womanhood, they must have wrestled with a hostile environment to assert their place in life.
I find this kind of courage utterly feminine.
I’m drawn to it as to an extreme of sameness that is quite as heady as the erotic tension between my female self and the male other.
Ultimately, my response to them is emotional, not intellectual. I experience these women as beautiful in the wholeness of their being. In their company I feel free and easy and refreshed.
Maybe I am the child they never had. Maybe they are the extremist woman I never dared to be. Maybe I feel with them as with someone whom I could quarrel with and don’t do any damage.
We would get so angry in our argument, and then, at a certain point, just start laughing, and laughing and laughing our heads off.