Legs

I tend to be lean. I have been all my life. I never wanted it that way. I wanted to be big enough to play football and not be concerned about the jocks giving me a bad time. My bones are light. I grew up wirey and I could run. I should have gone out for track but I was too shy. Whenever all of us neighborhood boys got together to play football, the opposite team never wanted me to get the ball. No one could touch me. I was fast.

My physique has always been a concern for me. Everyone told me I'd fill out when I got in my twenties. It didn't happen. So then the family said my thirties would make the difference. Not so. Your forties is the magic age. Yes, when all humans start to be concerned about their image in the mirror. The belt size grows, the dress size notches up, the dreaded middle age buldge becomes another drain on your finances to look twenty again. I still weigh about the same as I did in college.

I wore shorts around as a kid until I reached the age of self consciousness. They became the missing part to my wardrobe. However, I decided it was ok in college and exposed my legs only once in a while and not without uneasyness. Shorts have gone missing again and I'd never wear them in public. I don't like people asking me where the rest of the chicken suit is.

I had a cute girlfriend I dated for a while back then. One warm sunny summer day, I suggested we go swimming. It was something we had done before. She agreed. No Problem. We drove out the Columbia River Gorge and ended up at Rooster Rock State Park about an hour and half from Portland. The beaches were sandy, the water was warm and the weather nice. Not too many people. Perfect. We had a great time. I remember we came out of the water and stood facing each other. She simled at me and then took a look at those things I use to stand with. I can still hear the words she said with a somewhat serious look. "You've got skinny legs!" If she had a 45 and shot me it would have felt better. I was stunned. How could she say that about her guy? Ouch!

"Uh, yeah", was all that would come out. We walked a ways down the beach as I stewed over her comment. Unfortunately, I decided then, that I should make a verbal obsevation about her legs as being fat. Which I did. Women are a bit sensitive over negative remarks about their anatomy. I came to a better understanding of the fact on that day. This gal was pretty normal and sensitive and suddenly joined me in being in a bad mood. I wanted to go right then because the afternoon sun didn't seem as bright and cheery as it was when we arrived. She said she did not want to leave in a rather vehement tone and walked off in a huff. I ended up sitting in the car for about ten minutes until it finally hit me. She was in control of when we were to depart. It was all on her terms. I had to wait. For her! Since my level of maturity was about the same as hers, I did the only thing I could do. I left.

After about a half hour down the road, reality set in and it donned on me what I had done. I turned around and went back to look for her. She was no where to be found. Some kind soul had given her a ride not realizing the type of stubborn headed girl she was. I thought she should have waited. We made up on the phone that evening which kind of surprized me. I would have broken it off with someone who left me stranded seventy or so miles from home. She dumped me later that year though. She fell for another guy and rode off into the sunset on the back of his motorcycle. But it's all turned out ok. Even if my legs aren't as fat as they were then, I'm certain her's aren't as skinny.