I often envy ambidextrous people. I assume that these people, ripe with articulation from both sides of their body, are constantly writing, da Vinci-style, on both the right and left pages of their journal, simultaneously, then stepping up to the plate in their local softball game, hitting home runs from either side of the plate, just to mess with the other team and, of course, kissing their lover(s?) from any direction that they choose when they are awarded the MVP game-ball each week. Ambidextrous people disgust me with their god-given, natural talent.
I, on the other hand (no pun intended), have trouble writing with one hand, much less two. I have never excelled at sports and I cannot kiss to my right for the life of me, which makes that final moment before my date steps out of the car more awkward than Robin Williams at an Alopecia conference. Given I’m able to feign any sense of confidence approaching from the left, I usually opt to twist my date into a position that allows me to operate at peak performance and come in from the right. This maneuver, more times than not, ends up looking like something sitting in a pastry shop window and on several occasions has left my surprisingly limber love-interests with a shifter-knob (literal) in their back, while a seat belt cuts off their circulation.
And such is my life. I cannot kiss to the right and have never been able to relax or enjoy the process of dating, as I am constantly strategizing ways to get my date on my left, so that I might swoop in for a kiss from the right. Perhaps, I should consider moving across the pond, where ending a date with a kiss from the right is not only encouraged, but the norm. I’m assuming the reversal of driver and passenger seats in European vehicles is the sole reason Europeans are considered better lovers and more sexual than Americans.
So, let me take back my original statement. I am not envious of ambidextrous people, although I think writing with both hands is a fun parlor trick, but rather of Europeans with their smooth dance moves, open shirts and elevated libidos, always kissing to the right and laughing in my direction. God dammit, it’s too sexy!
My assistant/fact-checker informs me that there are other countries in Europe besides England and that my skewed view of European culture, as I have experienced it through airport hotels, night clubs, fish/chip carts and Austin Powers movies might be a bit one-sided. Especially, given the rest of Europe, outside of England, drive cars just like we do!
If that’s not a win for world diplomacy, I don’t know what is! So, the question now becomes, if these Europeans are driving on the same side of the car as we are, then why do they get all the great sex creds, while we’re stuck with Fattest City in the World?
Don’t get me started on fat people…
