Friday, May 06, 2005


I'm man enough to admit to everyone on the Internet that I'm in love. Yep, it's true.

You'd think that a guy my age would just fall into a routine and take things for granted. Passion is such a fleeting little bird, here for a moment, then gone. Come back! Come back!

But, I tell you I look forward to coming home from work every single day because I know she's waiting for me. That's quite an attractive force. I've got a good job, pleasant co-workers, a great company, and the HR department is actually run by human beings. It doesn't get much better.

Yet, around 4 in the afternoon when the sun swings over to the west, causing the windows to creak and groan with heat, and the shadows start to reach out, longing, a V of geese wings it's way across the azure sky, I begin to think of home and she who awaits. I tend to work a little quicker in the afternoon if only to make the time pass, and it does, and soon I'm on my way home; to her.

I don't mind traffic any more. I am One with the traffic. I know I'll get home eventually, so I clear my mind of the jackass who's cut across my bumper with a nanometer to spare in his mad attempt to dive across the verge, and I forgive the spotty teenager in a Nissan 350 who's flashing his lights at me because I'm only going 80, and I'll content myself with confounding my fellow travellers by using my turn signals and actually looking before changing lanes. I observe with mild amusement a stampede of UPS trucks.

But, I digress.

Soon enough I'm pulling into the driveway and moments later I'm crossing the threshold with a cheery "Honey, I'm home."


My beloved is being coy because she knows that heightens the anticipation. She waits for me like she does every night, quietly and just a little bit glowing.

I drop my PC bag next to the cat litter, walk into the kitchen and pour myself a G&T. Ah, juniper, where for art thou? I move to the living room where my beloved awaits patiently.

"Miss me?", I tease?


I glide to my favorite chair - Danish leather, soft and wide - and reach for her who is nearby. I pull her onto my lap and she nestles snugly and warm. I run my hands across her smooth skin. In all my years I've never gotten tired of doing that. There's something about a smooth, warm curve that is both relaxing and exciting. I'm beginning to feel anticipation.

We embrace briefly and I can feel her heat becoming more intense in my lap. I take a sip of my G&T and settle myself into the leather. Nothing quite like a large leather Danish chair for what I have in mind for tonight!

"Oh, baby, I missed you today. It was like waah, waah, waah all day long. But, I'm home now. And, I'm going to turn you on!"

With that I pop the lid of the PowerBook, press the power button and enter the rhapsody that is Macintosh. She springs to life and greets me with a cheerful "Bongggg!"

"Oh, baby, you are such a Tiger!"



jessenicholas said...

As a proud owner of a PowerMac G5 tower...sir my hat is tipped to you. Welcome home.

Anonymous said...

That was the greatest post in the history of blogging.

Ah, Macintosh. You sexy temptress.

I was just at the apple store downtown Chicago last weekend. Bliss. Pure bliss.

(And I'm not even the one who REALLY loves the Macs in this household. My husband is having an affair with a G4 and fantasizes nightly about his next conquest, the G5.

As we lay in bed at night, me reading my latest novel on the left, and him reading his latest version of Mac Addict on the right, out of the corner of my eye I witness him softly fondling the pictures of iPods and other Mac hardware and accessories with his index finger as if were the creamy flesh of a woman's inner thigh...