A Different Kind of V-Day

In Her Words A Different Kind of V-Day Beware of taking advice from strangers… -Carrie Seim I just had an intimate encounter with a homeless woman and her vagina. I’m trying to decide whether to call this phase “Rock Bottom,” “Please Make it Stop” or “I Don’t Want to See That.” Here’s how I met [...]

In Her Words

A Different Kind of V-Day

Beware of taking advice from strangers…

-Carrie Seim

I just had an intimate encounter with a homeless woman and her vagina. I’m trying to decide whether to call this phase “Rock Bottom,” “Please Make it Stop” or “I Don’t Want to See That.”

Here’s how I met Magda and her lady parts.

As part of my new dating regime, I’ve been chasing after the sexy joggers in my neighborhood park. Literally chasing them. And occasionally tripping in the hopes they talk to me.

So I’m running laps, trying to sweat out last night’s mojitos. (Rule of thumb: If your drink has international flair, it counts as a cultural exchange.) I’m grooving to Bad Company’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love,” blatantly checking out the shirtless guys.

I’ve never actually spoken to any of them, but I’ve assigned them names and complicated fantasy relationships. Pilot Paul wants to give me a lift on his Learjet. Scientist Steve designs DNA in my image. International Aid Ian saves starving children when he’s not planning our destination wedding.

I make eye contact with Mediterranean Marco. Some day he’ll lure me to Capri, but his mother won’t approve because she wants a more traditional girl for his son, and I refuse to give up my career, but Marco likes strong women and…

… and oh my God, a bedraggled woman just jumped out of the bushes and is running toward me.

She moves closer, waving franticly. I realize it’s Magda, a very sweet, not-totally-with-it woman who’s lived in the park for years. We often exchange hellos, but that’s as far as we’ve taken our relationship.

Until today.

ME: Hey Magda, you okay?

MAGDA: No, I’m worried. Are you ever going to get married?

ME: Um, what?

(Mediterranean Marco takes off sprinting.)

MAGDA: Do you think you’ll ever get married?

ME: Well, I hope one day, when I find the right -

MAGDA: Or perhaps you’d like to live with a man for three to four years and then marry him?

ME: Uh… I guess that depends. Does he rent or own?

(Pilot Paul stares. In a bad way.)

MAGDA: Or do you think you’ll end up entirely alone, without any husband or any children of your own?

(International Ian literally changes direction so as to avoid us.)

MAGDA: I always thought I would have children of my own, but they’ve taken my uterus and fallopian tubes, so now it’s never going to happen.

ME: Oh. Sorry to hear that.

MAGDA: I’m completely empty inside now.

ME: Wow.

MAGDA: Is that what you want? An empty vagina?

(Scientist Steve smiles, looking hot. I look like I’m talking to a homeless woman about her vagina.)

ME: I think… I don’t… I have to go.

I clutch my ovaries in panic. Nothing like a cautionary tale from a crazy lady to kick start your biological clock! As Magda as my witness, I vow to ask Mediterranean Marco if he wants to go on a date with me. And/or impregnate me. Ultimately, I’m proud of myself. I didn’t whimper, I didn’t freak, I didn’t even call my mom. (At least for a few hours.) Instead of crying hysterically, I’m laughing hysterically. And researching the cost of freezing my eggs.

What’s the best/worst/strangest piece of advice you’ve gotten from a stranger?bT_icon_16x16_trans.gif


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