What To Do on A Warm Spring Day

What To Do on A Warm Spring Day

While walking to work this morning, I stopped off at Bryant Park to watch Usher. He was performing for Good Morning America. Gotta love New York.

It's a bright and warm day. Now that I'm married, I question why God made the following:

• Brazil.
• Tight jeans.
• Nice legs.
• High heels.
• Boy shorts.
• Short skirts.
• Baby tees.
• Buxomness.
• Pretty toes.
  
• The office.
• Manhattan.
  
• Women other than my wife.
• Women who know they look good.
  
• Manhattan sidewalks and offices overflowing with buxom women in tight jeans, boy shorts and short skirts with nice legs wearing baby tees and rockin' high heels and pretty toes once Spring comes and stays.

It seems that warmer weather has finally arrived to stay for more than one day in a row and much like men who pull their convertibles out of the garage, women pull out/spruce up everything on their personage that seemingly was in hibernation during the winter. This isn't the case for every woman inhabiting this great city. God bless 'em, but they leave their houses hot under-dressed/overdressed messes.

I am a married man and I have a daughter, but I am not blind (thanks to contacts), nor am I any less hot blooded than I was as a teenager (although a whole hell of a lot smarter and wary of nightmares wrapped in pretty packages or wearing high heels). This is why I have a wife and kids. I don't spend time staring women down or swiveling my head around my neck every time I pass a pretty face or a fine physique, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice. My wife --- quite the looker, herself --- is so convinced of my skill at this that when walking together, she scouts out women she presumes are my "type" and accuses/punches me for looking before I even get the chance. In these situations, I often tell her, "You're my type, baby." She typically responds with a smile and then tells me I'm full of it.

On warm days women, who know (and are convinced) they look good, come out of the woodwork. How do I deal? I hide behind my beloved aviators and stay out of trouble. Another option is to never leave home, but that would be no fun.