I have to apologize to Melanie and Kat first, their pictures do not belong to this entry (that entry should've been "I had a nice dinner with friends I haven't seen in a while"). But I'm in a real time crunch, trying to complete my MBA (less than eight weeks away), preparing for my Dubai meeting (June 17) and lots of personal intrigue which I keep the blog free from usually, so I couldn't manage the time to look for an appropriate picture.
Having said that, the key point of this entry was generated in this dinner at Samdado when Anna and I were engrossed in a conversation about how unappealing facial hair is, with David sitting beside me, looking mighty fine with just the right amount of facial hair. Go David! Only you and Hugh Jackman can pull off facial hair. (Siobhan, you knew I had to mention Hugh somehow in an entry about fetishes, right? ha ha), the other conversation topic was to choose from a troika in the following order: someone I'll sleep with, someone I'd marry, and someone I'd push off a cliff. I'll need another entry just to address that.
So, like Carrie Bradshaw before me, this, in a weird way got me thinking about the weird fetishes that has influenced my life, which is more like an airport terminal that Tom Hanks inhabited. So let's call it Terminal Mannanmania (TM).TM has seen many planes land in it's lifetime, some have crashed and burned leaving a lot of debris, some could not take off again fast enough, and some just wouldn't leave, citing fuel, harsh weather, rising airport taxes, etc. TM has bought two (not one mind you, two) engagement rings, but was never proposed to and never got a ring (where's Monica Geller when you need one), so the important digits are aging and shriveling unadorned. TM has promised himself that the next bling he's buying will be a gift to himself for all the passengers carried safely to their own destination. Granted some were bound, gagged and transported like Hannibal Lecter against their own volition.
But TM has its share of fantasies of being proposed. And I'm just inebriated enough to share this here.
- Being proposed to by an Elvis Impersonator jumping out of an airplane just like Honeymoon in Vegas and singing Hound Dog
- Being lured into a den with candles, lots of candles in steps of a staircase just like Juliet Binoche and Naveen Andrews in the English Patient
- Being proposed at the Boca de Verita where Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, and later Marissa Tomei and Robert Downey Jr. visited
- Inside the Trevi Fountain where Anita Ekberg lured in Marcello Mastroianni (sp?)
- Standing in the balcony in Buenos Aires where Eva Peron and Madonna greeted the masses.
- On a boat in the Indochine gulf where Vincent Perez and his beloved tries to run away from Catherine Deneuve
- Blindfolded and surprised like Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke lying in 500 thread-count egyptian cotton (for the record, that fantasy does not include a plastic snake, a police scanner (complete with cook county map), or a self-cleaning toaster oven)
There, my work is done. If I don't get to post anything in the next two weeks, I'm having a jolly good time in Dubai, yet sad that I'll be missing Anna and Siobhan's farewell party.
