40 year old virgin

I recently saw the 40 Year old Virgin and laughed pretty hartily at many junctures. The poor guy. He couldn't get out of his own way. There are, I noticed, some similarities between the Virgin and myself. Ok so I am not 40, no longer a virgin, I drive a car, and I am not as obsessive compulsive.

I like, the Virgin, enjoy old movies, am particularly shy when it comes to the ladies, and I like to collect things. My things are currently hidden in boxes in some closet waiting to be outted. I fondly recall the days when I had all of my most awe inspiring artifacts displayed like fine china in a hutch. Literally they were in a hutch. Everything from my Charlie's Angels game, to a slightly used Laverne & Shirley giveaway tshirt, to El Seed from the Tick, and of course the Charlie's Angels braclet and necklace. Autographed pictures and a variety of dolls hung on the walls and shelves in the apartment. The piece day resistance (you know what I mean and I can't spell in other languages) was and is the Charlie's Angels pinball machine face.

I love all this stuff. I spent years trolling ebay and antique tv stores (Commercial Street in Ptown has a fabulous one - one that gave me a very cool Wonder Woman something). I have still not yet forgiven my cousins for drawing, in blue ink, a mustache and beard on my Cher doll - but one of the brothers did replace said doll and she too lives in the bowels of my crawl space. Some new pieces stay in view - Wonder Woman is a hot commodity lately (for the mainstream - a constant for me). So, I have amassed a WW Barbie, Action Figures, figurines, comics, etc. Like the Virgin, these figures don my shelves, prinstine in their cellophane houses. Unopened of course.

Yesterday, my god-daughter, her sister, and her brothers, came a visitin'. My god-daughter is so like me in many respects - she is a foodie, beats to her own drummer, and loves to run around like a total maniac. She could easily be pasted into the tricycle picture -head back, throwing caution to the wind, wishing that there was some major hill that I could go speeding down just to feel the wind slam against my body. And like me, she found Wonder Woman. Although she doesn't really speak - gutteral noises that we all understand so why the hell would she need to speak if we are at her beck and call - so she told me that she wanted to play with WW.

Without a beat I found myself ripping open the box. Her mom, a woman with whom I have been friends since the kindergarden, gasped loudly. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I looked down and for a nano-second I thought - crap I am the 40 year old virgin. And then, I ripped a little harder and handed over my WW Barbie. Little Miss didn't like the boots (one of the best parts mind you) so she threw them down and began her journey. I will of course have to remind my friend not to ever throw that doll away because I expect it back.