There was a time you could bounce quarters off of it

In light of yesterday's seriously intense post (by the way, thank you for the outpouring of love in posted comments and notes directly to me. Little Miss Notetaker feels blessed to be so loved. Also, Little Miss Notetaker was PMSing and had a heightened sensitivity, not to say what happened didn't upset me, but the fact that I let the whole world know what eats at my soul, something I've never even told some of my closest and dearest friends, yeah, that may have been hormones taking control of the keyboard and hitting "Publish Post" in an almost irrational manner. Anyway, thanks for all of it), I had a little, albeit slightly perverse, boost to the confidence today.

I took the day off work to join the Commish in a golf tournament benefiting... ooh, I'm not 100% sure what the organization that hosted it does, but it benefits something good. At any rate, of the 80 plus people playing in the tournament four were women. And a good majority of the 74 plus men were undoubtedly AARP card holders.

As with most charity golf tournaments, the round was followed by dinner and a live auction. Something in the auction caught my attention (especially when they reduced the opening bid to an incredibly low low starting price), so I started to create a scene. I was going up against another bidder (who actually donated the prize and was really only bidding up to get me to pay more). And because I'm never one to shy away from creating a scene and being in front of a crowd, the auctioneer called him and me up in front of everyone, where we had our all-out bidding war in front of everyone. Ultimately, I won--more about the "experience of a lifetime" I purchased in a future post--but as I was claiming my prize, I heard a few of the tourney goers in the front bantering back and forth,

"Did you see her tush?"

"Fantastic."

"Seriously, Harry, check out the tush on her."

Because those guys were not much younger than my grandpas, and because they used the word tush--I mean when is the last time you've heard someone use that term as a provocative way to describe adult female anatomy? They definitely get to play the "old-man-stuck-in-his-1950s-sexist-ways" card on that one--I felt flattered. A little bit like a piece of meat, but a flattered piece of meat, the fillet Mignon of the nearly all male tournament.

Oh, and by the by, there were local sports celebrities in the tournament, and this guy was one of them. All I have to say is I'd be his fillet Mignon, or even ground round, a-n-y day of the week.