Dark Chocolate Center

There is a wonderful, curly red-haired spitfire lady that works at our gym.  For some reason, she has taken a shining to me, and showers me with sweaty hugs whenever we meet.  Her husband  is a Baptist preacher to which she says, “before I was a preacher’s wife, I was a Woman!”  She comes up with “Angry woman day” playlists for her spin class.  She asked me if I knew what a “MILF” was yesterday.  I responded that I didn’t know, and that she would be the one I would ask, if I ever needed such info.

She’s just that kind of lady.

And I L.O.V.E. her!

As I approached the top of the stairs yesterday, she grabbed me and pulled me into the spinning room and declared that she was playing my song, “Enter Sandman” by Metallica.  (yeah, I did get a wristband to buy tix to a Metallica concert once.  I had a change of heart before tix went on sale.  Averted that potential black spot on my memory. . .)

She then proceeded to tell me why she loved me so much.  “You have a dark chocolate center!  You are all shiny and sweet and wonderful on the outside but there’s something a little bit nasty inside.”

I couldn’t have put it more accurately.

_______________

Husband: “Hi! When I go out of town this weekend, I’ve made arrangements to meet up with _____ (a moho).”

Me: “Great!  Where are you going to meet?”

“Oh, probably a hotel.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Why do you worry so much?”

“Give me one reason not to worry.”

“Because I love you.”

“You’ve loved me all the other times too.”

“uh. . .”

(later on)

Me: “So what if he’s hot?”

Him: “We’ll get a room”

(this morning as he leaves)

Me: “Sorry to give you such a rash about this weekend.  Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Him: “Oh, I won’t.”

Can you see why I’m so in love?

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2 thoughts on “Dark Chocolate Center

  1. MILF (according to Wiktionary): Moro Islamic Liberation Front. An organization in the Philippines seeking to establish an Islamic state on the island of Mindanao.

    This makes me wonder if she characterizes every person in chocolate? It could be delightful.

    Is Metallica bad? Once we played “Enter Sandman” as a cello quartet for a high school student body assembly much to rave reviews, including very enthusiastic complements from the biology department head who was my honors biology and anatomy/physiology teacher and who also was my primary teacher ages ago- THE last person I’d ever expect to enjoy Metallica. (But then again, she’s famous for her church-induced narcolepsy. Maybe she doesn’t get much out of church after all?)

    🙂

    p.s. I know this moho?/homo in Laramie… I think husband is due for a trip to Denver…

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