Picasso or Jane Mansfield

Apr 18th
Posted by shambo  as engineers, Relationships, Sex, Women


Picasso's "The Dream"

Let me say this about that.

I have met some pretty smart guys in my time.¬† I even used to think I was pretty smart until I¬†got to know¬†a few of these guys.¬† Smart people, like the fabulously wealthy – ‘are different from the rest of us’ – and operate on an elevated¬†ceriberal plane that is intellectual ‘Shock and Awe’ to an¬†average person like me.

When I say “Smart”, don’t¬†confuse that¬†term¬†with intelligence.¬† Don’t¬†confuse that term¬†with educated ….. or astute, clever, savvy, intuitive or wise. ‘Smart’ is the confluence of many of these attributes, but also requires¬†timing, speed, and above all else, ‘balls’. I have never met a really smart guy that did not have a set of ‘cojone’s’ the size of¬† watermelons.¬† Case-in-point:

When I graduated from college in 1969, I got a job with an aerospace company¬†in Cape Canaveral working on the Apollo program.¬† I was young, broke, inexperienced, and basically did not know my ass from a hole-in-the-ground when it came to surviving in a corporate environment …. none of which, I reasoned,¬†was cause not¬†to¬†be optimistic about my future.¬† But it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was in¬†WAY over my head.¬† I needed…¬†¬†¬† help, I needed guidance, I needed a mentor.

A few months after I started work, I was lubricating my sorrows¬†in draft beer at a local tavern.¬† I noticed this guy, probably twice my age, chatting-up a hand full of mini-skirted honeys at the end of the bar.¬† He looked familiar, but four beers had significantly reduced my cognitive powers and I couldn’t remember where I had seen him.¬† He looked and acted a lot like Rodney Dangerfield with that ‘screw-the-establishment’ demeanor and threw money around like it came off a Monopoly board.¬† Turns out, I knew¬†one of the girls in his harem and she¬†motioned for me to join them.¬† I walked over and the guy introduced himself as Grant.¬† He was¬†the executive vice president¬†for the company I worked for.

A lowly peon in the presence of one of the top guys in the company РHOLY CRAP!!  I was very intimidated, but he turned out to be a regular guy.  He bought me Рand the girls Р beers for the rest of the night and donated his harem to me after he left the bar.  What a guy!

I would ocassionally see Grant¬†at work and the local watering holes and after a few months we became friends.¬† I really liked the guy, but what wasn’t there to like?¬† I¬†became his ‘running-buddy’ and everywhere he went, free beer and hot girls followed.

One night at a regular watering-hole,¬†we got into a conversation about art and artists¬†- ‘Who was the greatest artist of all time?’, or something like that.¬† Grant happened to mention he owned a painting by Pablo Picasso and asked if I would like to see it sometime.¬† I said “sure”, and he invited me to his home the following Saturday to see the Picasso and a few other of his collectibles.

Let me take a moment and tell you that I grew-up in Appalachia and had just¬†finished six years¬†of engineering school – neither of which are hotbeds of art appreciation.¬† But I had heard of Picasso, and I felt that was sufficient to get me in the door without unduly embarrassing myself, and¬†pursuing¬†my primary passion¬†….¬†free beer.

So I show up at¬†Grant’s house the following Saturday, just as a haggard-looking middle aged woman was driving away.¬† I entered the house and followed Grant to the¬†refrigerator for one of many beers I would drink that afternoon.¬† I asked him about the woman I had passed in the driveway and he said it was his wife.

Shambo: “WIFE ?!?!¬† You’re married?

I was shocked.¬† The guy got laid more than carpet tile and he’s married?

Grant: “Yeah, married for twenty-two years.¬† The old girl has some issues, though.¬† She has been really down for a while.¬† She is on medication for her hallucinations, you know.”

I could feel a great story coming on.  Free beer, great stories, and oh yeah, an art show.

Grant: “I suppose some of it is really my fault, especially after the incident last year.”

The little angel on my right shoulder was telling me to shut up and be a gracious guest in the man’s home.¬† The little devil on my left shoulder was saying “Are you out of your freakin’ mind?¬† Drink the man’s beer and listen to some dirt¬†on his¬†wife !!”

Shambo: “What incident?”

'60's star Jane Mansfield

OK.¬† So I’m a slut, what can I tell ya?

Grant: “I had this girl over here on a Thursday afternoon – nineteen years old¬†with an ass like Jane Mansfield.¬† Anyway, the wife was supposed to be in Orlando on a shopping trip¬†with her girlfriends, but she¬†had car trouble and returned home.¬† She walked into the bedroom and caught me – what’s the old saying?¬† ‘in-the-saddle’.¬† Well, she went completely berserk, I gotta tell ya.¬† She yelled, she screamed, she cried, she threw things, she ran around in circles and basically¬† freaked-out.”

Shambo: “So, what did you do?”

Grant: “While she was on her rampage, I got the girl out of bed and out the door.¬† I got dressed,¬† made the bed, cleaned up the wine glasses, and brought my wife a stiff scotch.¬† I sat her down and asked her what was wrong.¬† Of course she started screaming again about me playing hide-the-sausage with little Miss Perfect Ass.¬† I just looked at her and asked her what she was talking about.”

“I took her into the bedroom and showed her a perfectly made bed.¬† I took her outside and showed her the only cars in the driveway were hers and mine.¬† I fixed her another¬†iced-tea sized glass of¬†scotch and¬†brought her a couple of her ‘happy-pills’.¬† She got a little woozy and I suggested she lie down and we would discuss this incident after she had a nice nap.”

Shambo:¬† “So what happened when she woke up?”

Grant:¬†¬†“I waited about fifteen minutes¬†until she got into that deep, alcohol and pharmaceutical semi-comatose state.¬† I changed into my work cloths, moved my car behind hers,¬†and woke her up.¬† It took me nearly five minutes¬†to get her awake, she was so out of it.¬† I said “Baby, wake up – are you all right?¬† You must have been having a horrible dream.¬† I came in from work and you were screaming at the top of your lungs.¬† Are¬†you OK?”

Shambo: “You bastard¬†- and she bought it?”

Grant: “She is convinced to this day that she dreamed the whole thing.”

Shambo: “And that’s when the hallucinations started?”

Grant looked at me like I had just fallen off the turnip truck and said:

“What hallucinations?”

And, that’s all I have to say about that.



One Comment

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