So it turns out Memphis Boy (MB) is a man after all and not a eunuch as previously supposed!



Not that I’ve seen the “hard” evidence mind you. Not yet. But he’s acting a little more manly, if you get my drift.



Not as manly, as say, the L’il Rockclimbing Spy (LRS), who got down in more ways than one, with little or no prompting, and who quite frequently had to be restrained.



We girls are used to this. I would venture to say that a wild (over)enthusiasm about s*x is the norm among boys in their 20s and 30s (EXCEPT those who are on lifetime prescriptions of anti-depressants, and who wear tighty-whities, who shall remain nameless).



But, you know, there’s something to be said for this moving slow business. It can be a real turn-on— that is, if you can accept the idea that if a boy walks into your apartment and doesn’t immediately try to rip your clothes off (and I mean, what kind of a turn-on is that, really?) it doesn’t mean you’re not sexy.



There’s something to be said for dating for a month and still barely reaching second base. ‘Cause when you do, well…it’s just better. I mean, a home run is exciting, but how much more exciting is hit to hit the winning home run at the end of the game with the bases loaded?



(Note to self: come up with something to replace tired baseball metaphor).