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" I love people. My cousin likes to say that, even in a city as guarded as Los Angeles, I&amp;#039;m still on a first name basis with the &amp;quot;Butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker.&amp;quot; You say &amp;quot;loud mouth&amp;quot; I say &amp;quot;community oriented&amp;quot;. And it&amp;#039;s lucky for you, because boy do I get the stories. Take Monday&amp;#039;s dry cleaning run at Rex&amp;#039;s urgent request, &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m out of shirts. Please pick them up today, will ya?&amp;quot; I smiled as I pictured Rex flying First Class to Chicago in nothing but his birthday suit. Then I got cranky. Internal Me: &amp;quot;Grumble... grumble... Why do I have to add this errand on top of the grocery shopping, carpooling, painting projects, my writing and my stop at Starbucks for a leisurely cup of cappuccino?&amp;quot; (Okay, forget that last item.) External Me: &amp;quot;Sure, babe.&amp;quot; Kiss kiss, hug hug, and all stuff sex related because this is a sex blog and, yeah, I know I don&amp;#039;t write in lurid detail enough about it but it&amp;#039;s Good Housekeeping for God sake not Hustler and I have some pride. (Though my mother doesn&amp;#039;t seem to think so but, like this run-on sentence and that hot military man I had an affair with post first husband but pre-gay boyfriend and Rex I&amp;#039;m moving on.) So I agreed to pick up the cleaning for Rex. Why? Because he&amp;#039;s worth it. And sometimes in life you do what you don&amp;#039;t want to do. Not because you&amp;#039;re a martyr, but because it makes your spouse&amp;#039;s life easier. Just like Rex is going to buy me those diamond earrings (hint hint, babe) because the kindergarten drop-off would feel a little less harried when I&amp;#039;m blinging like a rock star. And yes, $100.00 studs from Ben Bridge count. So back to the dry cleaners. As I walked in I waved hello to the owner, Mitch. We&amp;#039;ve seen him through two locations, at least twenty employees, short hair to a long ponytail and two cars. &amp;quot;How are you?&amp;quot; I asked, expecting his typical, &amp;quot;Great. You?&amp;quot; Instead I heard, &amp;quot;Amazing. I&amp;#039;m settling down.&amp;quot; Huh? The flirtatious dude I always used to see escorting tan mamas to their cars - their fancy attire stored safely in plastic (while he dreamed of storing other things in plastic for them - and probably succeeded most times) was settling down? I stuttered, &amp;quot;You mean, with a woman?&amp;quot; He laughed. &amp;quot;No, with Ricardo.&amp;quot; He pointed to a thick worker sweating over an iron and Armani slacks. &amp;quot;Check her out.&amp;quot; He whipped out his cell phone and showed me a photo of the cutest Asian woman this side of China. &amp;quot;We&amp;#039;ve been friends for years, but the timing was never right. But now she&amp;#039;s divorced, and I was single, and look...&amp;quot; he pointed to a text that read, &amp;quot;I love you, baby, and can&amp;#039;t live without you&amp;quot; and then to his response, &amp;quot;Ditto, babe.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m the luckiest man alive,&amp;quot; he continued. &amp;quot;Wow, it sure sounds like it,&amp;quot; I responded, &amp;quot;Next to Rex, of course.&amp;quot; Ah, new love. More on this subject Saturday. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a2898/cleaning-up-his-singlehood/>