Since Larissa's away on vacation (this is her "dh", Martin, filling in), I thought I'd have more crises to report.  But Binx hasn't been too much trouble.  The only things of note he did yesterday were to crawl approximately 50 laps of my 12' long office -- more than 1/10 of a mile! -- and to feed me precisely 0.999999 Cheerios for every one I fed him.

There's been plenty of time to notice other things.  Like how I'm getting more looks from the opposite sex now than ever.

Of course everybody everywhere looks at Binx.  He's cute as heck.

But sometimes there's more.  When I carry Binx into the swirl and hum of the hip grocery store, I feel it: that odd sensation of eyes following me.  Conversations take on little chugs and pauses, as sentences are waylaid, ever so momentarily.  Over the free sample cart of organic sesame crackers, past the magazine rack, through the glass freezer doors, there are people stealing looks -- at me. And it's not just any people.  It's women, usually late-20's or mid-30's.

I'm not saying they're making advances, or even that a glance is any more than a brain spasm.  But some sort of instinctive interest is obviously there.  

There were times in the past when I got (briefly, sigh) popular because I played guitar, or had some other colorful habit.  It was fun to feel wanted, but it always turned out those people didn't really like me.  I just symbolized something.

What is it I represent now?  "Enquiring minds want to know."

Thanks to kitty27 for the great photo, under Creative Commons License.