Monday, April 19, 2010

Sick With The Male Blindness

Saturdays used to be extra-special for me. I would have a wonderful woman all to myself. I would arrive at her house early. Whisk her away from her sleeping spouse and head out to the farmlands west of Houston. I would spend all day with her, just laughing, singing and chatting. I fell hard for her. Her dazzling smile, thick long raven hair, pure fair skin, and beautiful deep green eyes were captivating. She still stays in my heart. She'll always be there.
We used to bike together. Not just she and I, but three of us. I, the raven-haired beauty and her gorgeous spouse, a sassy redhead. I had fallen for the redhead long before. I couldn't help but. With her flaming dark amber eyes, larger-than-life persona, and mouth that would have fit better on a retired sailor, she had slammed me against the wall years earlier. I wish I could say that I'm over my crush on her, but that will never happen.
As the brunette grew in strength and speed in biking, the redhead lost interest. She biked socially. So the idea of trying to keep up with the brunette and The Queer, or falling behind and biking alone, was not appealing for a Saturday. Besides, it infringed on her jammy and Lifetime Network hours.
So, biking was down to the brunette and me. And I fell in love. With the slow pace, wide-open spaces and the serenity of the countryside. And the brunette. But obviously not in the way that some people would think.
I got to know her. We shared a lot of thoughts, ideas and history of ourselves. We laughed at completely ridiculous things: baseball caps, reversed biking helmets, Superman (those "you had to be there" moments). We could turn anything on his head and snicker like seven year-olds.
As the brunette grew in strength and speed in biking, she began to pull away from me. Regrettably, I let her go.

There's a biking term. "Male Blindness" Defined as when a guy watches a beautiful female riding away and stares intently, making him too confused to see straight when it's his turn to follow.

This past weekend, she completed the MS-150 bike ride from Houston to Austin that is held each year to raise funds in the fight against multiple sclerosis. I believe that this is her sixth (maybe seventh) ride. I did the ride with her for two years: once with her redheaded partner, once just the brunette and me. We still laugh about our misadventures (the seedy motel with free porn, the manic on the bus ride back to Houston, the PMS monster yelling at the volunteers - more "you had to be there" moments).
I've been friends with these two for about 14 years now. They jokingly refer to me as their "husband." I call them my "wives." Because while I said before that she pulled away from me and I let go, I was only talking about biking. C'mon ... Y'all. Neither one of these incredible women are ever gonna get away from me.

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