Day of the Women
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I spent about three hours chatting with a woman today. We’ve talked on and off for a couple of years when she drops by the store.
Her name is Krysta. She’s my kind of woman: flannel shirts, pants, functional shoes. No purse. No makeup.
No it isn’t about sex. Partly it is about her being female. I forgot how much I enjoy talking to a woman who doesn’t buy into all the gender stereotypes.
And it is the pleasure of just talking to someone for a long time about many things, both personal and abstract.
I’m not much given to liking people, I’m a natural solitary.
And I prefer the company of males mostly. Gay males. Femme gay males. A sadly dying breed.
Mostly it was the pleasure of chatting with a sympathetic, empathetic person. And since I’ve had so few female friends it is always a pleasure to make another one.
The other women in my life today are Della Reese: she was such a passionate powerful singer when she was young.
And Kylie Mingouie, can’t help but enjoy that breathy girl voice.