Water, Water Everywhere.....

You remember that little saying, don't you?  Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.  That's how I feel today.

I'm in Seattle on vacation.  This is one of the nation's best cities. The trip up the Oregon coast was gorgeous, but I've been looking forward to Seattle for a while. There's just something about the bustle of the city and the home of Starbucks that makes me feel alive.

Or maybe it's the men.  That's probably it. Seattle has a disproportionately high concentration of good looking men, and that was true even before Fifty Shades of Grey was published. If you haven't read the book, you have no idea what I'm talking about.  Oh well.  All you really need to know is that there are lots of hot men here - in all age groups.

Also keep in mind that I got lucky with that one vacation sex event, but it's pretty obvious that it won't be happening again. A little eye candy, Spartacus, and some fantasies about potential anonymous, one-time sex encounters are what I'm left with to calm the imperious urge.

So, we checked into the hotel and went out walking, looking for a restaurant for lunch. There wasn't much looking involved - they are everywhere in this part of town, but we walked a while because finding a restaurant that works for five people with very different tastes is a challenge. As we walked, while the boys debated the merits of Thai over Mexican, I decided to enjoy the eye candy.

To make a game of it, I thought I'd count the number of gorgeous, fuckable men I saw on the way to whatever restaurant the boys would pick. The first was about 30, well over 6'2", muscular, blonde. I caught my breath and had to focus on keeping my mouth closed as he jogged by.  He turned and smiled at me and nodded as he passed. Damn. I was hoping to keep my panties from getting damp for at least a block or two, but that ship sailed by with Mr. Perfect Teeth. I stopped and turned to watch him from the rear. Oh. My. God.

That's one, I thought. Am I going to be able to survive this walk?

Hubby turned to me and said, "You're not supposed to be so obvious.  There's an art to checking out the opposite sex, ya know."

"That wasn't just any man, though," I replied. "That was a god."

We both laughed, and I got back to my counting.  Two. Three. Four. Five.  I was up to 14 by the time the boys picked a restaurant only three blocks from the hotel.  I decided to continue counting until I got back to the hotel.

Bus boy. Fifteen. Mmmm....waiter....sixteen. Then I started calculating the odds that I might actually escape for a few hours for some....uh.....candy tasting. It would be difficult, but I could do it.

I looked around the restaurant. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one.  What the heck is going on?, I thought.

It was getting ridiculous.  They were, literally, everywhere.

We got up to leave and started walking back. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four.

Then I saw it.  The poster. And it reminded me what my brother had already told me about this weekend. I couldn't believe I forgot.

This is Gay Pride weekend in Seattle.  The parade is Sunday.

Noooooooooo!!!!!!

All those gorgeous men, but a bunch are gay, in town for the parade, and I have no way of knowing which are real candy and which are not candy at all.

I quit counting for the rest of the walk back. Now I was a little bit depressed and sexually frustrated.

Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.