Prolific Immigrant

As a joke, for my birthday last year, L took an ad from her store and gifted me ‘The Man’ (one very talented individual). When I went to visit her one evening, I saw The Man and nearly fell over a rack of scarves staring at the enormity of the ad. At that moment she decided that she would coerce her superiors into letting her have it and then humiliating me in our favorite birthday restaurant as I unfurled Him.

The joke, but really the reality of it, was that this 1-D photo should serve as ‘The Man’ to usher me out of my twenties.

We started calling him 1-D because there’s absolutely nothing real about him.

So. Poor little 1-D has been rolled up and sitting in the back of my closet for the last 11 months. What in the hell else was I supposed to do with him?

And then it occurred to me that there are in fact women who would make use of 1-D, maybe even believing he was 2 or possibly 3-D. They would glue him to the ceiling of their bedroom, maybe drape him over their bed, take him out for dinner, roll him over to the movies. Whatever. Point is, there are women who would be much kinder and gentler to 1-D than I have been in the last year, sticking him in the back of my closet.

Mind you, I allowed him to tangle himself up in my silks, lace and straps, something no other man can claim. If anything, 1-D should be grateful that he broke new ground, recognizing that he is one lucky son of a bitch. But who am I kidding; this is the most action I’ve ever had…

Anyway. Keeping the above women in mind, I decided to send 1-D to 1-D heaven where some lucky woman will soon be in the throws of passion with him. I doubt he’ll be breaking new ground with her (as he was with me, as I am exquisitely unique), so I expect he will maintain fond memories of his time in my closet.

Am off to shop so as to fill in the newly acquired space in my wardrobe.