PAY PER VIEW!!!

Oh my God!

I was in my one-size-fits-all-but-doesn't-fit-me lime green robe, grey knee-length wool socks, khaki towel-turban on my freshly showered head, face covered in Noxema, and...

KNOCK! KNOCK!

What? It's 9:45 a.m. I'm only expecting the cable guy... and he's not due until sometime between 10 a.m. and noon.

I get a glimpse of my visitor through the leaded glass; and he's HOT! Surely I'm just going into some type of face cream induced hallucination. As I open the door, mortified, washcloth in hand, I see the "Comcast" badge. It IS my cable guy. And he is H-O-T!

I couldn't have dreamed this more perfectly. A twenty-something, dark-haired, well-built, young man, with soft, supple, kissable skin... and dark dreamy eyes. Lovely white teeth and a devilish, yet boyish, grin.

I managed to sneak some clothes on, dry and flat iron my hair, and add a few cosmetic fixer-uppers before Captain Cable Cutiepants got down from the garage roof. I'm not trying to seduce him, I swear! I'll just be damned if I'm going to sit around in a gigantic green robe and unflattering wool socks while a hot young man is in my lair!

I will confess to wanting to snap a picture of him... partially for my viewing pleasure, but mainly because not a soul would believe this unless they saw it. I still don't believe it. To add to the shear oddity of the situation, I have my Sirius radio tuned to the "Chill" channel, and a remix of the Pet Shop Boys "We All Feel Better In The Dark," complete with climactic moaning, is playing...


I'm wondering if it would be inappropriate to say things like:

"The woman on the phone told me my box was not responding... what do you think?" (As I drop my pants...)

Or,

"What can you tell me about this Pay-per-view stuff? How much do I pay, and what can I view?"

Or,

"Why don't we see if 69 is working?"

Okay... okay. I'm only kidding... kind of.

I'm gonna get back to my "show!"