Nothing is ever as good as you can imagine it.

 

Case and point: a guy in a suit.

For those of you who know me, you know how I feel about this topic. For those who are unfamiliar with my eccentricities when it comes to the male persuasion, I'm giving you thirty seconds to process this:

Teratophilia

Guys who can play the piano

Ideal Third Reich breeding stock (i.e. blonds with blue eyes)

Power

Insight into the workings of respectable society, but naivete when it comes to sketchier scenes

SUITS.

Okay, now that I'm done explaining the factors that go into my wildest fantasies, I can tell you why suits drive me so crazy in the pants.

Let's go back to the title, shall we? Nothing is ever as good as you can imagine it. Yes, while it's true that I want what's under the suit, what's even more tantalizing is the whole imaginitive process that makes me realize I want it in the first place. Whether or not it lives up to my expectations, getting what you've been waiting for is always a colossal let-down because it allows you to let go of your pent-up tension.

Undressing a guy is like hunting bison or unwrapping a taco. You accomplish your objective, reap the benefits...and then what? 

I dunno. Maybe it's just me, and maybe that's why all of my fantasies stop halfway through.

Though lately my fantasies have been just a bunch of guys in suits talking about politics. I don't even know if that counts as a fantasy at all.