I am one of those women who never has fantasies about other men - not in my entire life. I don't see a hot-looking guy and start imaging how he'd feel or what he'd look like with a few less clothes on. Just doesn't happen.
So I found myself more than a little shocked this evening when I had an immediate knee jerk reaction to the overweight cashier at my local dollar store. As soon as I looked in his kind, but tired and overwhelmed, eyes I had this flash of cuddling up with him in bed. Nothing dirty. Just a comfy bed and us wrapped in each others arms.
I was so aghast that I stopped the thought there. Not only do I not fantasize about men, but this is the last man in the world I would be attracted to. He was older than I am, a good 100 pounds overweight, and way to nice for me. (Sorry, but it's true.)
As I visited with my friend over coffee later, I continued to be puzzled by my attraction to the chubby checker. And that is when I realized I wasn't...attracted that is.
When I went back over the moment before the vision of us in bed, I realize that he looked very nice. Worn out. Needy. He had very sad eyes. The poor guy looked like he needed to go to bed and/or get a hug.
As my BFF likes to say, I have a very visual thought process. Everything I think, or others say, colors pictures in my head. It just so happened that it painted me hugging the sad teddy-bear looking man while he was in bed.
This I can deal with.
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